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i miss you guys! i didn’t realize how long it’s been. time just be flying. i’ve been working a lot & been working on my book but i need to make time here soon to update on here. thank you for the love💛
THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON/CON & DUB/CON, MENTAL/EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL ABUSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNFI. 18+.
WC: 2.9k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
CHAPTER TWO | RAFE'S POV -- NOBODY'S SON | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER THREE
Rafe Cameron was furious. As he stormed out of the country club restaurant, he knocked a waiter out of the way, sending him backwards. He didn’t care about the stares or whispers that surrounded him as he left a trail of fire in his wake. All Rafe wanted was to either fight, fuck, or get his filthy hands on some drugs. It took everything in him not to take his anger out on every single face that sat the god-fearing table, but especially the new bitch who had the balls to invite him & his family to their service.
When his father agreed, Rafe was floored. Ward Cameron was the furthest thing from a religious man. He may have learned how to blend in with society & earn other’s trust, but he was just as bad as Rafe, if not more so. After all, where else could he have gotten his shitty behavior from.
Outside the country club in the parking lot, Rafe yanked out his phone & began dialing the number of one of his pals who always had a bag on him. But as he marched towards his dad’s Benz, he didn’t get very far when he heard his name being called out from behind him.
Ward was hot on Rafe’s tail, pointedly ignoring the looks of other members as they watched father & son prepare to have yet another public fallout.
“Rafe, Goddamnit, wait.” Ward barked.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Rafe spun around, his eyes ablaze as he stared down at his father. Rafe may have been taller than his father, but Ward always had been bigger in voice & control.
“You don’t tell me what I’m doing, young man.” Ward pointed his finger at his son, a vein popping along his hairline, “You will be coming tomorrow & that’s that.”
“The fuck I am.” Rafe spit, attempting to turn back around & yank on the door of the Benz. But his fingers barely grazed the handle when he felt his shirt being tugged harshly against his neck before being harshly spun back around & slammed against the car.
Ward held his son by the collar of his shirt, his expression a snarl, “You’re going to do exactly what the fuck I tell you or it’s off to rehab for you, son. Or worse.”
Rafe sneered down at him, “Gonna keep threatening me with the same old shit, old man? You & I both know you won’t. Ward Cameron can’t have a son in rehab! What will the people think?!”
As Rafe’s voice raised, drawing even more attention from members coming & going, Ward yanked on his son’s shirt, forcing the 20 year old to bend at the waist so he could get right in his son’s ear.
“Don’t forget who keeps you out of trouble.” Ward warned, “You think I keep all your records sealed to protect you? You may be my blood but you’re the most disappointing thing to ever come out of your mother. Don’t fucking push me.”
Rafe felt his lips curl as he listened to the insult.
Ward let go of him harshly then, running a hand through his hair before straightening out his son’s shirt, “Keep your shit together. You will be there tomorrow or so help me, I’ll send you to the furthest, most isolating rehab I find & you’ll rot there for the rest of your days. Do we understand each other?”
Rafe huffed out a breath, glaring down at his father. He wanted to strangle him, hit him, knock him down for everyone to see. But Rafe kept his closed fists at his side before nodding stiffly once.
“Good.” Ward hissed.
Without any words spoken further, Rafe pushed off from the Benz & began walking towards the main road. Ward did not stop him.
Once on the main road, Rafe pulled out his phone, dialing the number of his friend who he knew would be holding.
Will answered on the third ring, clearly having just woken up by the sounds of it.
“’sup, dude.” He yawned into the phone.
“Where are you? I need a bag.” He demanded, his pulse racing.
“Fuck if I know man…” There was some silence followed by muffled conversation before Will returned to the call, “Oh man, you won’t believe whose bed I just woke up in.”
“Don’t care.” Rafe bit out, “Just text me the address, I’m on my way.”’
Then he ended the call. His next call was Quinten. It was only slightly embarrassing that he needed to call one of his other friends to hitch a ride but Rafe refused to be seen walking on the roadway like a fucking drifter.
Quinten didn’t even get a word out when he answered before Rafe barked for him to come pick up. Quinten mumbled that he’d be there in five.
Rafe waited on the side of the road. Fortunately, this particular road was only driven on by people who were coming & going from the country club. Not a lot of traffic but the few that did pass by him were shameless as they recognized him waiting there.
Less than ten minutes later, Quinten pulled up in his Escalade & Rafe ripped the passenger door open. Will had send the address of his location & Rafe ordered Quinten where to go.
It wasn’t long before they pulled into the driveway of a two story beach house. As the two of them got out of the SUV, Will opened the front door, leaning against the doorframe in only a pair of silk pants & a finely threaded robe.
“Whoa, dude, what the fuck are you wearing?” Quinten laughed but Will grinned wildly.
Rafe ignored them both, storming forward & pushing past Will to enter the house. As he climbed the stairs to the main floor, he glanced around the space. It was an established, lived in home, but it didn’t belong to anyone that he knew of.
Will & Quinten joined him, moving to sit on the sectional that overlooked the coastline.
“Oh, shit!” Quinten sounded, holding up a picture frame of a smiling couple, “Bro, don’t tell me…”
Rafe’s eyes fell to the picture frame, the only face in it being a face he hadn’t seen since graduating high school three years ago.
“Did you hook up with Mrs. Edwards?”
Will snickered, bringing his backpack over & began to pull out the goodie bags he always kept on him, “Soon to be Mrs. Ex-Edwards. Man, I’ll tell ya, women going through divorce are hellcats in the sack.”
Quinten jumped in place, impressed by his friend. Rafe only glared between the two of them. As soon as a baggie came into view though, Rafe ripped it from Will’s hand before dumping a quarter of the powder out on the glass coffee table between them.
“Fuck, man, impatient?” Will teased.
Rafe ignored his comment as his friends continued to gossip like fucking high school cheerleaders.
“How’d you land her fine ass?” Quinten questioned, moving to sit beside Will as he rolled a join.
Will grinned proudly, “Got a random text last night, looking for a hook-up. I came through, safe to say we were both surprised to see one another. Gave her some snow & uh… then I gave her some more.”
Quinten punched Will affectionately, “Fuckin’ hell man, can’t believe you poked a teacher.”
Rafe did four lines in less than five seconds, listening to his friends boast & hype each other up. He licked his lips, feeling the grains coat the back of his throat. This is exactly what he needed, but he’d need more to get through tomorrow morning.
“Bro, you wouldn’t believe half the shit I told you about her.” Will cackled.
“Man, I can only imagine.” Quinten lit the joint, taking a long drag before passing it to Will. “Where she at then?”
Will smirked, “Showering. Told her I had some clients coming over. She thinks it’s hot I’m doing a deal in her living room.”
Rafe sniffed, stretching the muscles around his mouth as he let the coke take effect. He stared absent-mindedly at his friends as they reminisced their high school days, namely their massive crush on their English teacher. Rafe continued to do lines & hit the joint whenever it circled back to him.
“Anyway, yeah.” Will said after some time. Rafe hadn’t been listening to a word they said, his fury that had taken hold of him slowly dissipating as he got higher. “What’s up with you then, man?”
Rafe flickered his eyes to Will as he stared him down, “Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” He chuckled, tossing Quinten a knowing glance, “You came here like a man ready to commit murder.”
Rafe cracked the bones in his neck before glaring up at his friend, “Mind your business, Will. Right now, all you are is my snow fiend.”
Will rolled his eyes but didn’t push.
The sound of footfalls sounded behind them from the hallway. Rafe followed the sound with his eyes until the source appeared at the mouth of the hallway.
Mrs. Edwards stood there in a tank top, no bra considering her nipples poked through the fabric, & booty shorts. Quinten’s mouth dropped open while Will sat back against the couch like he won gold. Rafe scoffed, unimpressed.
“Oh, my.” Mrs. Edwards feigned shock, “William, you didn’t say it was going to be former students coming over…”
Will shrugged, “That didn’t stop you when it was me pulling up last night.”
Mrs. Edwards bit her lip at that before she moved to join Will & Quinten on the couch, making space for herself right between them.
Rafe snapped his fingers towards Quinten, gesturing for the joint, but before he could pass it over, Mrs. Edwards reached her hand out to take it from Quinten, bringing the joint to her lips. Her eyes met Rafe’s.
“Rafe Cameron.” She breathed out, smoke spilling from her lips, “I’d ask ‘to what do I owe the pleasure’, but it’s clear you’re not here for me.”
Will muffled his laugh while Quinten only stared openly at her, namely at her tits.
Rafe only met her stare head on, narrowing his eyes, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Edwards, I won’t tell anyone what no-good you’ve been up to.”
She laughed lightly at that, leaning forward to offer Rafe the joint. He didn’t miss how her tits pushed together as she leaned towards him. His eyes flickered from her chest back to her eyes. Then he glanced at Will. Will only shrugged but remained smiling.
“Please, call me Natalie. And I’ve been naughty for quite some time.” She smirked, “Just had to hide it for my students. Good thing you’re not my students anymore.”
Rafe accepted the joint, taking a drag, his eyes never leaving hers. She was older, probably mid 40’s, but during their high school days, she was the cream of the crop. All the boys wanted Mrs. Edwards, Rafe included.
“Yeah.” He nodded, “Good thing.”
She licked her lips before leaning back against Will, then she turned to him & brought her mouth to his ear, nibbling on his earlobe, “Hurry it up out here, I’m not nearly finished with you.”
Quinten’s eyed widened at the public display before he flickered his eyes towards Rafe, as if to say ‘you seeing this shit?’. Will caught Mrs. Edwards by the neck & kissed her heatedly, his hand around her waist as he rubbed the top of her ass.
Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes. Will likely felt like he was king of the world. Rafe couldn’t have that.
Rising to his full height, he stepped around the table & reached for Mrs. Edwards, grasping her by the forearm before yanking her up.
“Hey, what the hell—”
“Show me your room.” Rafe ordered, pulling her against him as she stumbled over her feet.
Will snickered, slapping Quinten on the back as they watched the two of them disappear down the hallway.
Mrs. Edwards tried pulling her arm away but was not nearly as strong as Rafe, especially when he had coke in his system.
“Mr. Cameron.” She hissed, “Get your hands off me.”
Rafe turned her suddenly, pressing her harshly against the wall in the hallway, he glared down at her, “Oh, please. They way you’re eye-fucking me out there, half naked… you want this.”
She stared up at him, trying to appear tough, “All you had to do was ask.”
Then she ripped her arm from his grip before leading him towards her bedroom at the end of the hallway. Rafe didn’t even bother closing the door behind them as he lifted her by her waist before throwing her onto the bed. He tore off his own shirt as he stared down at her.
Mrs. Edwards eyed him warily but there was a look in her eyes that assured to Rafe that she wanted this.
“Will says you’re a hellcat.” Rafe dropped his shorts, standing only in his boxer briefs before he began to crawl over her, “I wanna see for myself.”
Mrs. Edwards moaned slightly at that, running her fingers along Rafe’s spine as he made space for himself between her legs.
Rafe fucked more of his anger out, his stamina lasting longer thanks to the coke. Mrs. Edwards wasn’t as hellish as Will made her out to be, to which he was disappointed, but he still came & he still felt mostly satisfied by the time it ended.
She lied there naked, completely spent & used as Rafe rolled off the bed to begin dressing. She sat up, staring after him, “You don’t have to leave, ya know. You boys can stay for as long as you want.”
Rafe slipped into his shorts, his back to her. He chuckled darkly at her suggestion before reaching down for his shirt. He turned back to face her, crowding her in as he placed an arm on either side of her. He ran his nose along her jawline before leaving a trail of kisses along her neck. She arched into the touch, her gasps light.
Then Rafe grasped her harshly by the throat, forcing her to look at him. Panic filled her eyes but she tried to hide it.
“Sad, desperate, middle-aged cougars aren’t my thing.” He hissed before shoving her harshly.
As he walked out of the room, slipping his shirt back on over his head, he heard his former teacher cussing behind him, her footfalls hot on his tail. She didn’t even bother to redress as she chased him back out to the living room where Quinten & Will were lounging on her couch, watching cartoon reruns.
“You little shit!” She screeched, shoving him forward.
Rafe barely moved as he smiled to himself.
Will & Quinten sat up at their arrival, staring at the scene unfold before them.
“Get out, get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops.”
Rafe laughed at that, really laughed. He spun around to face her before pulling out his phone & quickly snapping a picture of her standing there naked. Then he turned his phone towards his friends, all their drugs displayed on the coffee table & snapped another picture.
Mrs. Edwards launched herself forward, trying to reach his phone, “What the fuck are you doing?! Delete those!”
Rafe easily held her at bay before he managed to lock her in his arms & shoving her down onto a nearby chair. When she attempted to stand once more, he forced her back down, pointing a finger in her face, “Don’t threaten me, Natalie.” He spoke her name sickeningly sweet.
“These are for my eyes only, but if you ever threaten me again, I promise you your husband will win everything in the divorce. Don’t fucking push me.”
She stilled at that, her eyes flickering to the two young men who sat on the couch & watched it all unfold. She naively believed they would stand up for her but Rafe was king ‘round here.
“Good girl.” He patted her once on the head before glancing at his boys, “Let’s hit the road. I think Mrs. Edwards here needs some time alone.”
Will & Quinten quickly gathered their things, sure not to leave behind a single grain or loose leaf. As Rafe led them down the stairs, he didn’t miss how Will paused at the top, his eyes staring back at their former high school teacher.
“Will!” He barked. Will turned to face him, his face solemn as he turned his back to Mrs. Edwards, “We both know you can do better than that filthy hag.”
Finally, Will pushed past him, likely upset that his moments of glory were cut short. But Rafe wouldn’t have it any other way. Before Rafe turned to follow his friends out of the house he glanced up & saw Mrs. Edwards standing there, a pillow to her front to hide herself.
Rafe smirked, “Forty-something & pretending you still got something worth hiding.”
The pillow barely missed his head on his way out.
Back in Quinten’s SUV, Quinten was laughing in disbelief at what just happened. Will was quieter but still smiled, even if it didn’t fully form. Rafe didn’t care. He felt in control once more. As Quinten sped along the streets around the island, Rafe relaxed into his seat. Coked out, fucked out, he was feeling on top of the world.
Thoughts of tomorrow returned & he smiled.
Fine, he thought, if Ward wants me there, I’ll show up. I’ll show that little bitch exactly who I am.
i was so excited to write this chapter after posting the other day, i just couldn't wait any longer.
i hope you guys are enjoying this hellhole as much as i am lmao
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Chapter Two -- Maybe I Could Save You From Your Sins
THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON/CON & DUB/CON, MENTAL/EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL ABUSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNFI. 18+.
WC: 2.6k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
CHAPTER ONE | MASTERLIST | RAFE'S POV -- I'M MEANER THAN MY DEMONS | CHAPTER THREE
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned;
The flames will not set you ablaze.”
Isaiah 43:2
After you got home the night you met Jordan, she wasted no time in texting you, inviting your father & you out for brunch for the following morning. When you relayed the invitation to your dad, telling him about the girl you met & how she was a fan of his service, he was more than happy to accept the invitation. You couldn’t deny the excitement you felt as well at already having made a friend on the island. You had only been here for less than 48 hours & already found someone who believed the way you did. It was comforting.
The following morning, as you were getting ready, your phone pinged with a text message from Jordan. It was the name of the restaurant you’d be meeting at. When you Google mapped the directions, you were slightly surprised that it was actually a restaurant at a country club. Based off the birds eye view of the country club, it was surrounded by lush green holes, sand dunes just along the edge of the entire property with what you imagined had stellar views of the sea.
Less than an hour later, you & your father found yourselves in his car driving towards the Island County Club. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the North Carolina sun casting it’s warm light over the island. You hung your head out the window, your hair catching the breeze as you drove.
After twenty minutes or so, you finally pulled up to a country club. You had been to country clubs before but never under circumstances like this. The only times you had been to one was when your dad was officiating the wedding’s of members from your previous church, & even then, those country club’s had nothing on this one.
Members of the club came & went in their finest golfing fabrics, the women in dressed in dresses & heels that likely cost more than your house. Dad pulled the car into the valet line-up. You were greeted by a young teenager who accepted your dad’s keys before guiding the two of you where to go once inside.
You felt out of place but not deterred as you entered the country club. Your dad smiled at other folks in the lobby, his hand on your upper back to stabilize yourself. You mirrored his attitude, smiling kindly at others even if they didn’t fully return the gesture.
The two of you moved forward through the lobby, &you admired the stately architecture of the lobby alone. The floors were limestone, & classical art hung above end tables. At the furthest end of the lobby was a set of floor to ceiling glass doors that overlooked the golfing green & the sea just beyond.
“Wow.” You breathed out, eyeing your dad.
He nodded in agreement, “Impressive, isn’t it?”
You followed signs for the restaurant Jordan invited you to & shortly approached the hostess stand. The hostess had barely greeted both of you when you heard your name being called.
“_____!”
You followed the source to Jordan as she sped-walked through the restaurant towards you. Her eyes shined brightly as they danced between the two of you.
“Reverend _____,” Jordan held out her hand, “I’m Jordan Pennington. I’ve watched almost all of your sermons online. I’m a big fan.”
Your dad chuckled warmly, shaking Jordan’s hand, “I’m honored, Miss. Pennington. Thank you for inviting my daughter & I out.”
“Oh, of course!” She grinned wide, “And please, call me Jordan. My parents are here as well, they’re members of the church so they’re just as eager to meet you.”
You laughed lightly at her excitement, feeling welcomed more & more within the walls of the country club thanks to her enthusiasm.
“Lead the way.” Your dad gestured for her to guide you, “I look forward to meeting them.”
You followed Jordan to a table set for five near the windows that overlooked the green. Dad was first to introduce himself to Jordan’s parents who stood to greet.
“Thank you for inviting us.” Your dad began, shaking both her parents’ hands.
“It’s not often we get to take a celebrity out to brunch.” Jordan’s father joked.
You moved to sit between your dad & Jordan as the parents began to converse with one another. You turned to face Jordan, smiling yourself as she eyed you happily, “This place is stunning.”
“Yeah.” Jordan nodded, glancing around, “Too bad it’s filled with Kooks.”
You cocked your head at that, it not being the first time you heard & wanted to know what exactly a Kook, was. But before you could ask inquire, a server appeared to begin taking orders. You hadn’t even had time to glance at the menu so you blindly chose a random meal before handing your menu to the server.
Once orders were done being taken, everyone at the table fell into conversation with one another. Your dad was asked a plethora of questions about his service & long history of working within the church. Jordan & her parents hung onto his every word, clearly smitten with how he spoke. You yourself admired him from where you sat beside him. Though everyone else who knew your father viewed him as a celebrity figure, to you he would always be your dad. Even if he didn’t have his faith, he had his warmth & love. You were proud to call him your dad.
Brunch arrived shortly after & conversation slowed as you all ate your meals. Jordan’s eyes hardly left your dad as he shared more of this philosophy & being a devoted man when a new presence approached the table.
“Neil.” A middle aged man greeted Jordan’s father, clapping him on the back, “We missed you at dinner last week.”
“Ward.” Jordan’s father stood from his chair to greet the man. In the corner of your eye, you saw how Jordan’s smile fell from her face, dropping her fork onto the table quietly as her eyes peered at the person behind the man who approached her father,
You followed her line of sight, noticing a young man around your age standing just a few feet behind the man. It took you only a few seconds before you recognized his face. The guy from last night at the diner, the one who harassed Jordan & tore your necklace from your chest.
Your eyes flashed to Jordan’s in worry but she now had her eyes cast downwards. You frowned, reaching out to grab her hand under the table. She glanced up to meet your eyes, her smile weak.
Returning your gaze to the young man, you were surprised to see that now his eyes were on you. And he wasn’t smiling but scowling.
You didn’t smile nor scowl but narrowed your eyes in thought, recalling what little Jordan had told you about him. You even forgot his name.
However, your attention was stolen away the sound of your dad’s voice saying your name, “Honey, this is Ward Cameron, a friend of Neil’s & a member of the country club.”
You smiled easily, offering your outstretched hand to the man named Ward, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” His smile was tight but you imagined it was a practiced one.
“Are you a member of the church?” You questioned lightly, holding Ward’s eyes.
“Oh, uh, no. No, my family doesn’t…” His eyes glanced around the table not out of concern but politeness, “My family is often busy with our business ventures.”
Your dad nodded at that. It was clear that how he danced around the question was proof that they weren’t of your kind of faith & that was okay. But then your eyes fell to the young man behind him.
Ward cleared his throat, turning to the young man & waved him forward, “This is my son, Rafe.”
Rafe forced a hand out to shake your father’s hand before he turned to you. You held out your hand, knowing how to shake well & intended to give him an idea of how grounded you were.
When your hands touched, a pinch of electric coursed through the palm in your hand & you saw Rafe’s eyes narrow, “Rafe.”
“_____.” You returned kindly, dropping your hand.
Jordan remained quiet the whole time, her face nearly hidden by her hair. You moved to sit back down but didn’t miss how Rafe’s eyes fell to Jordan’s, a sneer on his graceful features. You didn’t like that. Not one bit. She was here to have brunch with her family & friends, & this man thought he could still harass her, even if it was silently.
“Mr. Cameron.” You stole Ward’s attention, “Is your family busy tomorrow morning?”
Ward frowned slightly at that but responded coolly, “No, we typically spend Sunday morning’s here, golfing, business meetings.”
“But nothing concrete?” You questioned further.
He chuckled awkwardly but nodded in confirmation.
“You should come to our service tomorrow. It’ll be my dad’s first here, a big deal. If you’re not busy of course…” You kept the smile on your face, “We’d love to get to know the locals more, your family included. Please, we’d love to see you.”
You were laying it on thick but you didn’t care. There was something about Rafe Cameron that made you feel up to a challenge. You didn’t necessarily have a desire to save him, you hardly knew him & what you did know left a bad taste in your mouth. But with how he kept glancing down unkindly at Jordan pushed you to cause some sort of discomfort back.
“Oh, well, uh.”
“_____.” Your father said your name quietly beside you, a warning tone.
“Please, I insist. Just one service, we don’t expect further attendance.” Your eyes shifted from Ward to his son who was now casting daggers in your direction.
Ward’s eyes noticed your attention towards his son & he sighed, nodding once, “Of course, we’d be honored.”
“Dad.” Rafe snapped, now shooting his father those daggers that were once on me.
“Rafe.” He held up his hand, forcing a smile as he faced the table, “We’ll be there.”
“Looking forward to it.” I grinned.
Rafe scowled, not bothering to hide his dislike of the invitation. His jaw locked, a muscle ticking before his eyes met yours once more. Then he threw a glare at Jordan before stalking away. Ward watched after his son, his own glare forming in his wake.
“Sorry to disturb your meal.” Ward finally turned to speak to the rest of you, “Please, enjoy. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ward then departed after his son. You watched in mild enjoyment as the two men left the restaurant one by one.
Your father cast you a concerning glance before his attention was stolen by Jordan’s parents. It was only then you glanced at Jordan & she was already looking at you, frowning. Of course she’d be upset. According to what she told you, this Rafe Cameron had been picking on her for years for her faith, & here you were inviting him into the one place she felt accepted. You understood the dilemma, but intended to explain yourself when it was just the two of you.
Brunch ended less than an hour later & Jordan invited you to go down to the beach with her. Your father didn’t mind, as he & Jordan’s parents planned on speaking some more. So, without another word, you followed Jordan out of the restaurant & towards a rear exit that led to a sandy trail.
The two of you walked in silence, your heels dangling from your fingers as you followed closely behind her. Once the two of you reached the beach, she moved to sit on a sand dune, her eyes narrowed towards the sea.
You moved to sit beside her, your toes disappearing into the warm sand.
“I’m sorry, Jordan.” You began, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“Got a funny way of showing it.” She replied softly, hanging her head.
“If it makes you feel any better, I wanted to get some payback on your behalf.” You smiled gently.
She scoffed at that, shaking her head, “How is that payback? It’ll only give him more ammo to attack me with.”
You nodded, knowing that may be likely be true but you figured there was a chance to humiliate him back, “His father will make him come, I know it. I saw it in his eyes.”
You scooted down on the sand dune to catch her eyes. Your hands touched hers hesitantly, “I have a plan, you just have to trust me.”
Jordan’s eyes met yours, sighing heavily, “I hope you’re right. The church, it’s the only place I feel safe & seen, letting that Kook in ruins it.”
“What is that?” You questions, “Kook? Your coworker mentioned it yesterday, too.”
Jordan laughed humorlessly, “Kooks & Pogues, the two extreme ends of the class system on this island.”
You pressed your lips together, listening intently as she spoke.
“Kooks,” she began, meeting your eyes, “people like Rafe Camero & his dad. The members of this country club, pillars of our community, their names on nearly every business investment or developmental plans the island takes on. They’re the big fish.”
“Ah,” You nodded in understanding. “And Pogues?”
She shrugged, “The complete opposite. They’re the trout in the waters, they’re the laborers who make the Kooks dreams come to fruition. They’re the scum at the bottom of the Kook’s yachts.”
“Wow.” You frowned, “And you… you’re a Pogue?”
Jordan chuckled but shook her head, “No, but you’d think I was based off how Rafe & his friends target me. I’m barely a Kook. Only reason my family can afford food at this country club & have friends in high places is because my dad is in investment. He manages a lot of the financial holdings for the higher up Kooks on the island.”
“I see.” You inhaled sharply, deep in thought.
“Look, _____.” Jordan eyed you with concern, “There is nothing good about Rafe Cameron, or those like him. There’s no saving them or redemption arc. They are simply evil. You’ll learn, you will. This island has a way of taking every good person on this island & squeezing out their goodness.”
You swallowed at that, but then you shook your head, “I believe you, but I also believe there is no such thing as pure evil. I can’t.”
“So, what?” Jordan narrowed her eyes, “Are you planning on saving the Rafe Cameron, seriously?”
But you shook your head, “No. That’s not my goal. I just want him to understand the pain & discomfort he causes. What he does with that experience is his doing.”
Jordan rolled her eyes but smirked, “You’re wading into dangerous waters, I hope you know.”
You smirked at that, gently reaching for your necklace & fingering it gently, “It takes a lot to scare me away.”
The two of you sat in silence for some time afterwards, just watching the waves crash on the shore. You lied down on your back, enjoying the sun washing over you. A smile appeared on your face when you thought about tomorrow.
You knew better than to think Jordan didn’t know what she was talking about, but she also didn’t know you, didn’t know how tenacious you could be. You didn’t care if Rafe found God or faith or changed his tune, you only simply cared to pull him out of his element & into yours & Jordan’s. If he didn’t change that was okay, but he wouldn’t continue his harassment of Jordan, that much you were sure of.
chapter two!
i'm really concerned that my organization for this series is going to be messy since it's being told in dual POV's with separate postings but fingers crossed i don't lose my shit lmao
as always, please share your thoughts with me via dropping an ask, commenting, or reblogging with reviews.
thank you for reading!
oona<3
Requests are currently CLOSED
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[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
WC: 2.5k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
CHAPTER NINE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER ELEVEN
You remained in that room for two more days. Ransom would return occasionally to apologize more through the door but you would not have it.
You set yourself up directly across from the door, the shotgun constantly pointed at it. Exhaustion hit you hard & desperately. Your arms were sore from holding the gun up so often but you feared that the moment you set it down or fell asleep, Ransom would find his way inside & do the worst things imaginable to you.
To keep yourself awake, you’d often stretch or pace the room, but never letting go of the shotgun, or at the very least, only putting it down for a microsecond right beside you.
Your stomach growled & you wished there was a way to retrieve food but you weren’t willing to risk it.
By the time the second day arrived, you felt half dead.
Anytime you saw yourself in the vanity mirror, you lost more & more sight of yourself. Your skin was tight, your face saggy from lack of sleep. But you were determined, you had to be. It was either you or Ransom, you chose yourself.
But as you sat there in a chair across from the door, you felt your eyes flutter close & your arms begin to lose strength.
You hadn’t meant to fall asleep.
In your dream, you were still sitting in the chair in Ransom’s room. It was dark outside but the window glowed orange. Smoke filled the room but you could still breathe. You got up from the chair & approached the window. Outside, the world was burning. Men, women, children ran through the flames screaming & crying. Wildlife trampled them over & birds overhead sang their tunes as you watched these faceless strangers die in more ways than one.
You stood at the window for some time, watching it all unfold. There was no panic or fear as it all occurred before you. In the reflection of the window, you saw the door behind you open & a giant black mass approached you.
It was in that moment that you couldn’t move. Your feet were glued to where you stood. Your eyes stationed on the black mass growing bigger in the reflection, moving closer & closer to yours.
It was getting hard to breathe & your hands were moving in search for the shotgun but they came up empty.
By the time you raised your eyes back to the reflection, the mass was directly behind you. It was so massive & dark that it took out your own reflection.
“_____.” The mass whispered in a hush tone. It was quiet & loud all at the same time; speaking softly into your ear but echoing off the walls of the room.
You winced, wanting to cover your ears with your hands but you couldn’t move those anymore either.
The mass slowly began to envelop you. It started at your feet, clouding them until you could no longer see them then slowly began traveling it’s way up your body.
Tears blurred your vision as the mass grew higher & higher.
A choked scream was lost in your throat as the mass finally came to face you. It was nothingness. Endless. Abysmal.
It wrapped you up in it’s arms & the next thing you knew, you were falling.
It felt like you had been falling for minutes when the sound of your name returned.
“_____.” “_____.” “_____.”
Louder, louder, angrier.
You reached out to grab anything, for your father’s hand, a lifeline, anything to stabilize you but it was only the darkness that surrounded you.
“_____!”
You shot forward in your sleep, falling from the chair. The shotgun clattered to the wood as it fell from your lap.
Scared, you immediately snatched the gun, pointed it at the door, & pulled the trigger.
Wood splintered & the room shook with the bang.
When you realized you were awake, you slapped yourself once. Your hands were shaking & your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat.
The door had a massive hole near the top of it, littered by smaller holes around it.
“Fucking hell!” Ransom’s voice hollered from the other side.
You readjusted the shotgun in your hands & held it up, your breathing coming in pants.
“Quit fucking shooting at me!” He yelled, banging on the door once.
Through the hole near the top of the door, Ransom’s face appeared. It was only his eyes & nose but he looked furious.
“I brought you fucking food, you little shit.” He hissed.
You kept the gun pointed.
“_____.” His head dropped for a moment, only the crown of his head in view, “I want to start over. Let’s start over. You’re making this very difficult.”
You, of course, said nothing, never dropping your eyes from the door.
When he raised his head once more, his eyes met yours, “You’re going to die in there. You’ll starve to death if you don’t eat. If you don’t sleep, you won’t know what’s real & isn’t.”
His words brought no comfort.
Your eyes flickered over to the windows. No, you had already decided against jumping out. It may have only been the second floor but this was a mansion, not a regular house. A jump from that height would break your ankle or both. What chances at survival would you have then?
“Please.” He slapped his hand against the door, “Just eat something.”
You lowered the gun only slightly to glare into his eyes, showing how strong your distrust was.
“If you come out, if you eat…” His eyes bored into yours, “I’ll let you leave.”
Your breathing paused at that. But that look in his eyes, that darkness, it was full of lies. You scowled.
“I will, _____!” He grit out, “I’ll let you fucking leave me.”
Lowering the gun for only a moment, you signed to him one word: liar.
Ransom glowered at that.
“Fine. Fucking starve then. And when you die, I’ll bury you out back with the rest of my family.”
Then he stormed away. You listened intently as his footfalls carried himself down the stairs & far away from you.
But Ransom was right. You were going to die in here.
Night fell & with it exhaustion returned. Your methods of staying awake were no longer working. Sometimes, you’d see shadows appearing in the corners of the room but when you turned to stare at them they would disappear. Your body was fighting to live but it was shutting down. You hadn’t even had water. Your lips were dry & peeling, the bags under your eyes growing bigger by the minute.
You just needed one more day, one more day to come up with another plan.
As sleep threatened to steal you once more, you found yourself sitting on top of the bed, resting against the headboard. The shotgun was in your lap, still pointed in the general direction of the door, but you felt your body begin to slump over.
Just for a minute, you told yourself.
As your head fell to the side, the darkness welcomed you eagerly.
Again, you were in the same room but when you glanced at the window this time, there was no orange glow. You slid off the bed & approached the window. It was quiet & dark & eerily still. Your reflection did not greet you.
A knock sounded nearby & when you turned to face the rest of the room it was empty. No furniture, no art on the walls, and the door was missing as well. It was simply a hole in the wall.
You willed yourself to move towards it. As you did, you gazed down the hallway but the hallway was outside, the road leading back to the farm you grew up on.
A smile graced your lips as you took a step out. The gravel crunched under your feet & for the first time in months you felt relief wash over you. Your steps grew faster & louder until you were full on sprinting up the road. When your house came into view you reached your arm out.
It was glowing in the dark, music could be heard but it was muffled due to distance. You didn’t stop running but no matter how hard you pumped your legs, you never got closer.
You wanted to scream for your dad, your mom, your old life, for the world to return to normal. The front door of your house opened, revealing your mom. She had her hair & she peered outside, not seeing you. She called your name, asking you to come home.
I’m here, I’m here! But she didn’t hear you.
Behind her, you saw your dad just inside sitting at the dining room table. He was laughing. Really laughing. Those were rare moments for him, laughing so hard his body shook. You didn’t know what he was laughing at but you wanted to hear it once more. You wanted to hug your mom, dance in her arms, witness your dad’s smile as he watched his two favorite people truly live.
But then the dream shattered. Your house exploded from within. The windows blew out & your mom disappeared along with your father’s laughter.
A scream tore from your throat & you continued running but the house grew smaller, being replaced by a giant black mass.
You fell to your knees, scrambling backwards, the gravel cutting into your palms as you attempted to crawl away from the cloud that was fast approaching.
In a second, the mass reached you, yanking your legs & pushing you down. You reached out blindly, wanting to fight it off but your hands only caught air.
As the mass blanketed you, one face appeared out of it.
Ransom.
He had red eyes as his arms appeared from the darkness & reached for your throat. You gasped at the contact, it feeling all too real.
His face would glitch & distort as he bared his teeth down at you.
“I told you,” He hissed, “I told you you would die in here.”
Then the black mass around him began to fade & a familiar ceiling began to form above him. You winced & squeezed your eyes shut.
Wake up. Wake up.
But then you couldn’t breathe. Actually couldn’t breathe & your eyes tore open.
Ransom was here. Really here.
A strained cry tore from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. Your eyes danced dizzily around the room, spotting the shotgun on the floor. A cold chill danced across your legs & you realized the windows in Ransom’s room had been shattered.
“I wanted this to work!” Ransom yelled, his spit collecting on your cheek. “You did this, _____. This is all your fault.”
You reached up, your arms growing weaker by the second as Ransom choked the life from you, but you managed to rake your nails down his face.
But it was nothing to him. His eyes were indeed red with rage, determined to kill you.
“N-n—” You grasped for the last thing, the last fucking thing you had to save yourself.
His hands softened, only loosely, not enough to gain air as he stared down at you.
“Ran—” But stars danced in your vision as his hands around your throat never ceased. But as you struggled to say his name, something he’s wanted since the day he met you, Ransom finally let go.
He stared down at you, his chest heaving, his brows furrowing as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His eyes were still red, maniacal.
“You…” He breathed out, “Say it again.”
Your vision swayed, darkness picking at the edges. Blindly, you reached out, your hand seeking out for the shotgun on the floor. Then your vision darkened & nothing came for you.
The first thing you felt when you came to was your wrists bound. Your eyes shot open & you gasped, memories of Ransom in your room flooding back to you. But as you jolted forward, you were unable to move.
Glancing down, you saw your wrists bound to the arms of a dining room chair, your ankles fairing the same. Panicked gasps parted your lips as you glanced fearfully around the room.
You were back downstairs, tied at one end of the dining room table much like you had been the night the strange man with the strange name appeared. But now Ransom was nowhere in sight.
As panic gripped you, your eyes danced around the room, looking for any object you could potentially reach to cut yourself loose but even the dining table had been cleared of any objects.
A whistle sounded behind you & you immediately stilled.
“We’re not going to have any repeats, _____.” His voice was soft, even, but filled with warning. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you felt him slowly approach you from behind.
Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, your body shaking as he grew closer & closer to you. When he finally reached you, his hands found themselves on your shoulders, rubbing them affectionately.
“I could’ve killed you.” He leaned forward, his mouth at your ear as he spoke in a hushed tone, “Should still kill you, but…”
He finally moved to your side where your eyes could meet his. But what you saw made your heart falter with a new fear.
“Then you said my name. Or tried to.”
Ransom stared adoringly at you, but that wasn’t was the most concerning issue.
It was his eyes. They weren’t just bloodshot. In this lighting & with his face so near to yours, you could see the other clear signs. One pupil was blown, the iris becoming red itself, while his other eye…the iris was black.
He was infected.
Tears spilled from your eyes as you peered at him. The more you looked at him, taking in his pale skin, the redness blotting his cheeks, the bald spot just above his temple forming, you realized you weren’t just fucked. You were indeed dead.
Ransom smiled, his eyes tracing the features of your face, “Say my name. Or I will kill you.”
“You’re dead.” It was the first time you had truly spoken, a full sentence even though it was only two words.
Ransom frowned, shaking his head, “So are you.”
Licking your lips, you finally looked away, hoping to find a mirror or reflective surface somewhere in the room to see how badly you were likely infected as well.
But Ransom’s hand found your chin & forced you to face him once more.
“No, no, no.” He cooed, leaning forward until his face was almost pressed against yours, “Say my fucking name.”
Your lips trembled as you accepted your fate. You had nothing left to lose now. After being locked in the bedroom for who knows how many days, you had no idea Ransom was infected to begin with, you couldn’t see how fast the virus was taking over him.
Staring into his eyes, one red one black, you couldn’t stop the tears, “Ransom, you’re sick.”
The sound of his name on your lips caused him to flutter his eyes closed. He looked almost blissful, if it wasn’t for how sick he appeared.
“I know.” He whispered gently before opening his own eyes to stare back at you, “And by the time I’m finished with you, you will be too.”
finally an update for this series. sorry it's been so long. been working a fuck ton & am currently dealing with some bullshit medical issues.
please prepare yourselves for the next chapter as it will be the darkest chapter of this series.
as always, please share your thoughts with me via dropping an ask, commenting, or reblogging with reviews. i'm eager to your thoughts.
thank you for reading!
oona<3
Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.
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What would’ve rafe done to lou if he hadn’t been told he was his son?
honestly, nothing. he wouldn’t have harmed him but rather traumatized him indirectly. in my head, he would’ve murdered reader & disposed of her body in the middle of the night leaving lou to wake up alone in the house. he would’ve been that kid who is crying & running down the street begging for his mother only to be spotted & picked up by a neighbor. his mom/reader would’ve ended up on a true crime documentary with lou never understanding what happened or why.
rafe is capable of diabolical things obvi but i don’t think he would hurt a kid.
i will also add that my face claims are always at random! i actually don’t have a person or appearance in mind when i choose face claims for my side characters. my process is all about ‘randomized fate’ lmao.
so for example, in my latest story with Rafe with the character Jordan Pennington. I count the pictures under ‘female character inspiration’ as the same number of letters in the name for the character i’m looking for. so really the name picks the face claims. in Jordan’s name, there is 16 letters so I count 16 face claim choices (skipping AI images or ones I’ve already used) & whatever the last letter ends on is the face for that character.
THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON/CON & DUB/CON, MENTAL/EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL ABUSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNFI. 18+.
WC: 2.4k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
CHAPTER ONE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER TWO | RAFE'S POV -- I'M MEANER THAN MY DEMONS
Summer never meant anything for Rafe Cameron. He was godless year round. Throughout high school & into his 20’s, Rafe never knew what it meant to be a good son. He was reckless, dangerous, filled with contempt for his surroundings, & took advantage of his privilege to get up to all the bad behavior his friends could keep up with. The summer before he turned 21 was no different.
The day started out like it normally did for him. He woke up late in the morning, his father & stepmother gone for the day. His sister’s were nowhere to be seen. He didn’t mind, he never missed any of them.
He rolled out of bed & stretched in front of his window overlooking the coastline. A half-smoked joint lied on his nightstand & he brought it to his lips, lighting it before inhaling deeply. A headache threatened to ruin his decent mood, he wouldn’t have that.
After he finished the joint, he stubbed it out & tossed into a trash in his bathroom. He took a quick hot shower, not bothering with washing his hair before he dressed in a pair of board shorts & a loose tank shirt. In the extravagant kitchen of his house, he opened the liquor cabinet & poured himself a double of whiskey. He downed the amber liquid quickly. Hair of the dog, they always say.
One of the staff members offered to make him some food, to which he mumbled indifference. Soon enough though, a plate of bacon, eggs, & toast was placed before him & he scarfed it down. When he was finished his phone began to ring. He answered it on the third.
“What?” He answered.
Quinten, a friend of his since middle school, sounded hungover himself as he spoke into the phone, “Dude, we’re meeting at the Island before hitting the waves, you in?”
Rafe glanced at the time on his phone, “Be there in 20.”
Staff at the Island Country Club always had their hands full when Rafe & his friends rolled into the place. They were heathens dressed in board shorts & sun-kissed tans. No one argued against serving them alcohol & they kept their eyes to themselves as Rafe & his friends made their jobs difficult. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they left for the day.
At the beach, most of the little boys pretending to be men stripped out of their tops & ran towards the ocean, surfboards jostling against their toned muscles as they dived in. Rafe rarely surfed. Truly, he never properly learned how to surf, & his pride wouldn’t allow him to fail or falter in front of others. He stayed on the beach, continuing to knock back a few, chain smoke, & hit on a few tourists his age.
Rafe always scored numbers. The ones he did score & didn’t want he would pass on to his friends, letting them have the numbers of the less than hot girls who were tagging along with their girlfriends who were out of their league.
If Rafe got lucky, he would have an encounter or two with a girl whose name he’d surely forget after tumbling around in one of the beach hut’s, but no one worthwhile ever kept his attention.
Rafe knew he was a bad guy. Did he care, though? Not a bit. He grinned the widest when he made rose-colored glasses girls cry. He laughed the hardest when he made fun of one of his pals & the rest of the gang would join in. Rafe was a god among his godless friends on this godless island. No one dared challenge him or attempt to make an example out of him. Even his father gave up. He was free to do as he pleased, a dangerous habit for someone as bored as he was.
But little did he know, that dynamic would change.
As the sun fell behind the horizon, leaving the sky in a haze of pinks, oranges, & purples, Rafe & his friends found their way toward a diner frequented by Pogue’s & tourists alike. It wasn’t that they liked the food or the stale air of oil, but that Rafe was bored & he needed some entertainment in the form of torment. One of his favorites came in the form of a girl named Jordan Pennington.
Rafe had been picking on her since high school. She was one of the few out & proud bible thumpers on the tiny island. She always thought she was better than Rafe, & people in his class bracket in general. Rafe couldn’t have that. She was stubborn, annoying, & got under his skin more than Rafe cared to admit, but he found content when he could show up to her work & make her life as hellish as possible for the little thing.
The diner was practically empty except for a single girl by herself on the opposite end. Rafe & his friends piled into two booths & wasted no time in wreaking havoc. Jordan appeared shortly stayed hidden behind the counter, her blonde hair hanging in front of her eyes as she avoided looking at them, her back shrinking into herself as she tried to avoid their attention. Rafe wanted to see her humiliated. That would be the cherry on top of his summer sundae.
After a few of his friends called her name in sickeningly loving tones, Rafe approached the counter, slapping his hand palm-side down, making her practically jump out of her uniform. He whistled gleefully to himself, “Hello, earth to Jordan, we’d like some service.”
“I’ll be there in a second, Rafe, please.” Jordan glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes already watering with fear. Rafe felt elated.
Rafe often wondered if Jordan, & people like her who wore their cross necklaces proudly, truly believed in god. If so, why didn’t they have a backbone? They were always so meek, weak, & patient. It drove him mad. Perhaps if Jordan ever stood up for herself he may get bored, but she never did. She made it too easy. She was the perfect target, a lamb to the slaughter & his mouth was watering to tear her & her faith to pieces.
“If you have time for your ‘lord & savior jesus christ’, you have time for the people who are actually real & here & hungry.” He teased, his friends laughing obnoxiously behind him.
Jordan slid out from behind the counter & approached their table. Rafe stood behind her, enjoying her attempting to give her practiced routine greeting all the while his friends never allowed her to get a word in. Over her shoulder, Rafe watched as Jordan faked writing anything down on her notepad. Her pen drew itself into circles over & over again. Rafe grinned to himself. He stepped up behind her then, his hands finding a place on her shoulders. She went rigid under his touch & Rafe had to hide the snide smile that threatened to appear on his face.
“Don’t fuck up our orders again, Jordan.” He cooed.
She said nothing but, much to Rafe’s surprise, someone else did.
The girl who was sitting at the other end of the diner only moments ago was now standing beside Jordan, her eyes filled with annoying concern as she asked Jordan if she was okay.
Rafe scoffed at this. Who the fuck did this random think she was? Rafe had never seen her before, but she wasn’t dressed like a tourist with a tote bag for the beach or surrounded by friends & family that carried their digital cameras around their necks.
“She’s fine.” Rafe told the stranger butting in, but she ignored him, her focus entirely on Jordan. Rafe didn’t like that. Not. One. Bit.
Jordan mumbled something quiet before she snuck out from under his grip. Rafe didn’t have a chance to keep her in place, his eyes glaring daggers at the girl who had the balls to get in the way of his entertainment. But as Jordan quickly disappeared behind the counter, her Lord & Savior in denim skinny jeans attempted to follow behind her.
Rafe shot his hand out, grasping the wrist of the little brat as she attempted to follow after Jordan. She spun around, her eyes staring wide-eyed at Rafe’s hand on her skin before her eyes met his. Rafe returned the glare.
“Mind your business.” He ordered. Only a dumbass would come between him & desire to torment.
“No.” She snarled then ripped her arm out of his hold.
Rafe’s chest tightened with anger. His friends stifled their laughter, unsure if their laughter would anger Rafe further, so they remained quiet. Rafe stared after the girl as she spoke in a quiet tone to Jordan who punched in an imaginary order into the POS system.
Well. Rafe thought, his heart thrashing with a growing rage, we can’t fucking have that.
Rafe caught the tail end of whatever it was Jordan was saying as he slung his arm over the shoulders of the brat who had her balls dipped in iron, “You heard her. She can handle us.”
The young girl shrugged out from under his touch, a tamed fire burning in her eyes as she glared up at him. “Do not touch me. And don’t touch her, either.”
Rafe howled. Again, who the fuck did she think she was? Did she realize who she was talking to? Rafe’s friends felt safe laughing now as they mimicked him.
“What’s your problem, sweetheart? This has nothing to do with you.” He was giving her a chance to get away unscathed, an offer he rarely made.
She began spitting some bullshit about ‘souls’, something that reminded Rafe of the days when his father tried to force him to go to the local church when he was a kid. His eyes took her in then, glancing at her from head to toe, & that’s when the necklace she wore glinted in the dim lighting of the diner.
A cross.
Offuckingcourse. Another one.
Before she could stop him, Rafe reached forward & snagged the necklace before ripping it clean off from around her neck. The girl immediately attempted to get her precious necklace back but Rafe held it above his head, well out of her reach since she was all five foot nothing.
“Well, looky here, boys. We got another bible thumper in the midst.”
His friends doubled over, pointing at the cheap necklace. No one could believe it. No wonder the bitch stood up for Jordan, apparently the god this one believed in rewarded her with a spine.
“See, Jordan?” Rafe dangled the necklace for Jordan to see, her eyes watering with contempt as she watched the symbol get jostled around in a heathen’s hand, “Guess you’re not entirely alone. Another jesus freak to keep you company.”
The necklace was ripped from his grip, the chain of it embedded into the palm of his hand. The bible thumper with a spine began yelling then. Rafe didn’t retain a single word, going so far as to pick invisible earwax from his ear as she attempted to reprimand them.
All he really understood was that she was demanding they leave. Rafe could’ve been there all night, enjoying tormenting not one, but two little shits who believed their god would protect them. But Rafe’s headache was returning & the shrieking wasn’t bothering him more than he would like.
“Alright, fine. We’ll leave.” Rafe wasn’t backing down, he never backed down, “But we’ll be back. Won’t we?” His eyes met Jordan’s. He was silently promising to her that this was far from the end.
“Go.” The girl beside him demanded, her eyes steel.
Rafe smirked, laughing harshly. He began walking backwards. He clapped his hands together & held them in a mock prayer position, “Tell your god to forgive me, sister.”
Then Rafe & his friends left. They continued their laughter, hyping each other up as they repeated everything that had just occurred. Rafe didn’t join in. He was angry. If it wasn’t for the headache that was growing exponentially, he would’ve buried them both six feet under.
In his truck, Rafe slammed his door shut before dropping his friends off at the beach. They tried convincing him to stay & hangout longer, but Rafe was too pissed to fake it. He wanted to be alone with his frustrations.
Once they were gone, he reached into his glovebox & pulled out his flask. It was nearly empty, not enough to numb the headache, so he drove home intended to refill his flask with his father’s stash.
But the second he walked in the door, his father stood there, his hands in his pockets & that familiar disappointed look in his eyes.
“Son.”
Rafe rolled his eyes, attempting to surpass him & head for the butler’s kitchen when his father held out his arm, blocking his path.
“Father.” Rafe replied sarcastically.
“You reek.” His father stared daggers at him, his gaze as piercing as always, “Get up to no good today, as always, I presume.”
Rafe scoffed, saying nothing in response.
“Rose made dinner. We have a client coming over. Wash up & join us.”
Rafe closed his eyes in disbelief. He loathed when his father forced him to dine with clients. He had been trying to groom Rafe for years to join him in his business but Rafe had no interest. But if he didn’t, his father wasn’t against taking away his allowance, truck, & all the things that allowed him to be reckless.
“Ayeaye, captain.” Rafe muttered before finally brushing past him.
Back in his room, Rafe collapsed onto his bed. He opened his nightstand drawer & pulled out a plastic baggie filled with green & rolled himself a joint.
As he smoked, he waited until his headache disappeared & then he sat up. He caught sight of himself in the full length mirror that stood in the corner of his room. He flipped off his reflection, the joint nearly having burnt out as the ashes fell to his arm. It burned him, but it didn’t hurt.
He glanced down at the ash & blew the remnants off. Then his eyes trailed the length of his forearm to his hand. There, on his palm, were faint red lines from the necklace he had in a death grip. Cheap metal didn’t do that. Rafe laughed quietly to himself.
The bitch with a backbone & balls of steel better be praying she never runs into him again because next time, Rafe promised to himself, he’d show her what hell really looks like.
been a long awaited update, sorry about that ya'll. been working A LOT lately. am hoping to keep updates more consistent from here on out.
as i mentioned in chapter one, this series will be told in dual POV's. once the series is completed, you can read it strictly from reader's pov or rafe's, totally up to you.
as always, please share your thoughts with me via dropping an ask, commenting, or reblogging with reviews. they're always appreciated.
thank you for reading!
oona<3
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Summary: Moving to Kildare was supposed to be a fresh start--just a quiet town where she could keep to herself while her father took over as the new reverend. She's always walked the straight & narrow, certain in her convictions & the path she believed was laid out for her. But then she meets Rafe Cameron. Sharp smile, restless eyes, & a godless streak that pulls her in before she can look away. Everything about him tests her commitment to the faith she's never dared to doubt.
THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON/CON & DUB/CON, MENTAL/EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL ABUSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNFI. 18+.
READER'S SOUNDTRACK
RAFE'S SOUNDTRACK
PINTEREST
FANCAST
Reader's POV/Rafe's POV
CH. 1-- YOUNG GOD/NOBODY'S SON
CH2.-- MAYBE I COULD SAVE YOU FROM YOUR SINS/I'M MEANER THAN MY DEMONS
CH3.-- GOD BLESS YOU AND GOD BLESS ME/SHE HAS SALVATION'S FRAGRANCE
THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON/CON & DUB/CON, MENTAL/EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL ABUSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNFI. 18+.
WC: 3.8k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER TWO | RAFE'S POV -- NOBODY'S SON
all AI images are created based off prompts i wrote, they are not real images
“He will oppose and exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshipped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God.”
2 Thessalonians 2:4
You’ll never remember the day you were born, but you’ll always remember the day you nearly died. You always knew that something greater, something purely made up of goodness & peace would be on the other side, but you never knew if the moments leading to it would be of contentment or violence. They were rather morbid thoughts, you knew that much, but they were thoughts that often kept you awake at night. Yet, they were not thoughts that scared you. You had never feared death simply because you knew where you would be going. Heaven, paradise, the great beyond, whatever the name for it was, you knew it was waiting for you. So you needn’t be scared.
But it wasn’t the same for you mother. She had been young, you had only been a baby—not even a year old—when a man made up of pure evil murdered her one night. She had been working the night shift at the hospital & was exhausted, she never knew someone was watching her. She had never seen her attacker coming. He snuck up behind her, stuck a knife into her spine, & ran off with her purse. Despite being in the parking lot of a hospital, your mother had bled out before anyone found her. Here one moment, gone the next. She died a violent death. You prayed you wouldn’t experience the same.
Fortunately, your father had always been gracious in protecting you. He put you in the best schools, raised you in the safest neighborhoods, kept good company, & always had your best interests at heart. It’s why you trusted him to guide you. He may have been the well-loved & highly respected reverend that he was, but more so, he was your guardian angel. It’s why instead of going to college immediately upon graduating high school, you made the decision to move with him to a new town in the south. You decided you would take a year off, live a year for yourself before you dedicated the rest of your life to whichever path was laid out before you. Your father had urged you to go to school, but trusted you to make the right decisions for yourself.
And that’s how you found yourself in a small, island town called Kildare. It was a Friday, & you had only moved to the town yesterday. Your father paid for movers to get the house set up before your arrival, but you insisted on setting up your own room. After you decorated your room & unpacked your clothes, you opened up the only window in your room to let in the east coast breeze. You had been to the beach very few times in your life, but you were excited to explore the island. It had been saddening leaving your friends back in your hometown, but a majority of them were going off to college or traveling the world, so you figured this would be a new chapter in your life.
“_____!” You heard your father calling your name from downstairs. You slipped off your bed & entered the hallway, glancing over the banister to spot your father at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m going to head to the church & get some work done there for my first service on Sunday, would you like to come with?”
You smiled & nodded, “Let me get my sandals.”
With that, you quickly slipped into your sandals before checking your outfit once in the mirror before grabbing your phone.
The drive to the church was quick. It was telling to you how small the town was with how easy it was to get around. Getting out of your dad’s car, you peered at the church from the rear side. The front entrance was on the beach & you grinned at how beautiful the tiny church was. You had spent your entire life within the walls of the church & you had never known a safer place to be.
You had heard all the insults & jeers to go along with it, but you brushed most of it off. You knew what it was like to be the reverend’s daughter, to be picked on or made fun of because of it. But you never felt the need to defend your lifestyle. People would find anything to be angry about, & a lot of people were angry with God. That wasn’t your fault. Of course, you knew a lot of people did not have the experience with faith that you had, & you were empathetic to those people, but you had always considered yourself fortunate for having a positive upbringing under His love.
Your father slung his arm over your shoulders as he eyed the church with you, “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”
“Truly.” You replied.
You were eager to see the inside. The church your dad had worked at previously was much older & had a lot more character & history to it. The church before you was still young-looking, but you knew it would be just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. Once you stepped inside, you were relieved your instinct was correct. The interior of the church was indeed stunning.
The ceilings were high, the walls painted white with the North Carolina sun beaming in. It was much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside but still much smaller than the one you grew up in. You knew then that the congregation for this church must be less than 100 people. It was only slightly worrisome, being surrounded by a smaller group of believers, but you were looking forward to meeting new people & making new friends, nonetheless.
Your father got to work right away, reciting passages from his bible as he stood at the lectern. It was a comforting pastime, listening to him practice his sermon’s while you did your homework or read along with him in your own bible—which also happened to be your late mother’s. But now with no homework & your bible left on your bedside table, you simply walked around the church, admiring the different views from the windows. For the next thirty minutes, you explored the church & all of it’s hidden secrets. In the private backrooms, you found what would be your father’s office, a picture of your mother already on his desk. You gently fingered all of the books on his shelves & smiled when coming across one of his Sudoku books.
After getting your fill of the new church, you returned to the main room. Your father was deep into his practice when you gently tapped him on the shoulder.
“I’m going to go for a walk.” You told him, “Explore Kildare.”
“Okay, sweetheart.” He grinned at you, his eye-glasses placed near the end of his nose, “You have your phone?”
“’Course.” You tapped your jean pocket.
“When I finish here I will come pick you up.”
“Okay.” You agreed, raising onto your toes to give him a kiss on his cheek, “Have fun.”
Exiting the church, you continued forward onto the beach. You slipped out of your sandals & kept them dangling from your curled fingers.
The ocean breeze was refreshing. It was early July & you were impressed at how hot it wasn’t. The sun felt good on your skin & you enjoyed the taste of saltwater on your lips. You took your time walking along the shore, your eyes cast out over the ocean the whole time. It had been a little after four in the afternoon when you left the church. You knew your father wouldn’t be done until about six, so you had a couple hours to yourself.
Your feet were soaked up to your ankles & you wiggled your toes in the sand. A few others walked nearby: an elderly couple holding hands, a mother & her young son flying a kite, a few girls around your age lying on beach towels. Honestly, you had expected more activity on such a beautiful day on a beautiful beach, but you supposed it was a small town. Perhaps there were more important matters for the residents of Kildare.
As five ‘o’clock rolled around, you felt your stomach growl. You regretfully began walking away from the beach towards a boardwalk in the distance. You were unsure of how far you walked from your father’s church, but you knew it couldn’t have been too far. Once at the boardwalk, you put your sandals back on & window-shopped. A lot of boutiques & small bakery shops lined the boardwalk. A few vendors had booths open selling items from seashells to books to jewelry. You were relieved you had some cash on you, deciding to buy a small seashell that was the perfect blend of white & blue. It would be a gift for your mother. You’d place it near her urn that your father kept in the living room & welcome her to Kildare.
After making small-talk with a few of the locals, you finally spotted a small diner. It’s name was SaltWater & the name alone reminded you of how hungry you were. Heading towards the diner, you entered & quickly found a small booth in the corner meant for two people. The interior of the diner was quaint & fitting of a town like Kildare. There was very few patrons inside so the only waitress that appeared to be on shift was quick to greet you.
“Evening, darlin’.” She was older, perhaps in her 50’s & had a thick southern accent. It was different but exciting.
“What can I get started for ya?”
You hadn’t even looked at the menu yet but felt safe ordering an ordinary cheeseburger with fries & a shake.
She swiftly turned away with a wink & disappeared behind the counter. You inhaled sharply & glanced out the window. It was still bright out & you watched as locals & tourists alike walked along the boardwalk & bought items for themselves or loved ones. You hoped to come to the boardwalk again but with your father, & maybe after some time, a group of friends.
With the diner being so slow, your food was quick to arrive. You thanked the waitress but not before she made a comment about you being a face she didn’t recognize.
“You new, huh, sweetheart.” She stated.
“Yeah.” You smiled, taking a single bite of one of the fries. Salty indeed.
“I can tell. Tourists have a look to ‘em. Not you, though.” She teased.
“I hope that’s a good thing?” You returned, biting your lip anxiously.
“It is, honey, it is. Tourists ‘round here only bring more problems for us locals. Kids your age get into a lot of trouble this time of year. Kooks & tourists, the worst combo.”
“Kooks?” You questioned.
But before she could respond, a bell dinged from the kitchen.
“’scuse me, darlin’. Enjoy your meal, it’s on me tonight.”
“Oh, no, really—” But she had already walked away.
You were grateful for her kindness & it made your cheeseburger taste that much better. The shake you ordered was strawberry & you often dipped your fries into it, enjoying the salty & sweet combination.
You didn’t see much of your waitress after your meal. Another girl had come into work & she was closer to your age. She had long blonde hair & bright eyes. But despite how angelic she appeared, you observed a cloud cast over her. She often kept her head down & avoided meeting the eyes of others.
She stopped by to check on you & you ordered another shake, strawberry again. She jotted it down before moving behind the counter. You pulled out your phone & checked the time, it was a quarter to six. You imagined your father would be finishing up soon so you planned on ordering him a burger to go.
A moment later, the young waitress returned with your shake. You thanked her & were about to ask her to put in a to go order when another door at the other end of the diner slammed open.
A group of rowdy boys piled into the compact diner, their voices loud & boisterous as they all clambered into the closest booth. There were so many of them that they took up two booths. But what you noticed most of all was how your waitress responded to their arrival.
She rolled her eyes & sighed, speaking quietly to herself, “Great. Here we go.”
Before you could place your order, she moved behind the counter once more. You watched as she cast an annoyed glance at the group of boys. You wondered if this is what your waitress from earlier had been referring to. Were these the tourists that caused problems?
Your gaze landed on the group of boys. They were all talking over one another or shoving each other off their seats. There was no one else in the diner except for you, the waitress, the group of boys, & you assumed a cook or two in the back.
“Jordaaaaan!” A voice called then & it came from one of the boys in the group.
“Oh, Jordaaaaan! C’mon, baby, we’re starving over here.”
Your eyes flashed to blonde behind the counter as she ignored the boys. Then one of them moved out of the booth & towards the counter. He slapped his hand on the flat surface then whistled, “Hello, earth to Jordan, we’d like some service.”
“I’ll be there in a second, Rafe, please.” The waitress, who you knew now was Jordan, glanced at him over her shoulder.
The young man rolled his eyes & made a face at his group of friends whom all laughed raucously.
“If you have time for your ‘Lord & Savior, Jesus Christ’”, the man air quoted with his fingers, “you have time for the people who are actually real & here & h u n g r y.”
Jordan shook her head but finally exited the counter to approach the group of boys, avoiding the young man at the counter as she moved around him.
“What can I get started for you?” Her voice was soft, tired, but you still managed to hear it.
Then all at once, every single boy began ordering. You could see the annoyance on Jordan’s face as she didn’t even bother writing anything down.
It was burger this, burger that, fries galore, multiple shakes in different flavors, demands for extra napkins & complaints about empty ketchup bottles. You felt your skin crawl noticing her discomfort. But then the man who stood at the counter stepped up behind her & placed his hands on her shoulders & jostled her as if she was a child, “Don’t fuck up our order again, Jordan.”
You reacted before you could even think about it. Standing up, you approached the group of boys giving your waitress a hard time & you tried to catch her eyes. Once you had, she peered at you wide-eyed.
“Are you okay?” You questioned, ignoring the numerous glares that were suddenly being cast towards you.
A scoff came from the man who still had his hands on Jordan’s shoulders once he spotted you, “She’s fine.”
You ignored his input, never dropping your eyes from Jordan’s, “Do you need some help?”
“Uh—”
“Hey!” Another young man sitting down yelled out, “Wait your turn!”
Jordan lowered her eyes once more before shuffling out from under the young man’s hands, “Your order will be right out.”
Her voice was small & she quickly found solace behind the counter. You moved to follow after her, keep yourself between her & them, but just as you moved, a firm grasp gripped your wrist & halted you. You spun around & glared down at the hand that held you up. Following the length of the hand it led you to a tanned arm up to the face of the young man who was leading the unnecessary harassment.
“Mind your business.” His blue eyes glared into yours.
You ripped your arm out of his grip, “No.”
With that, you closed the distance between where you stood & the counter where Jordan remained, punching in an order into a POS system.
“Hey.” You greeted softly, your eyes meeting hers.
She glanced at you once before returning her gaze to the screen, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“I can kick them out if you want.” You offered, not fearful of the boys behind you.
Jordan gave a short laugh, unimpressed with your offer, “It’ll take the entire US armed forces to get rid of them.”
“What about the cooks?” You gestured with your chin to the window that peered into the kitchen.
“Too high or drunk or don’t care.” She responded bitterly, “Look, thanks for your help, but I’ll be fine. I can handle them.”
“But—”
“You heard her.” A voice suddenly sounded to your right followed by an unwelcome arm slinging over your shoulder, “She can handle us.”
“Ugh.” You shrugged the young man’s arm off, “Do not touch me. And don’t touch her, either.”
The man laughed & at this angle with him being quite taller than you & closer to the artificial lights embedded in the ceiling, you could see how red his eyes were.
Oh. So that explains it. He’s one of those types.
“What’s your problem, sweetheart?” He finally cast his eyes down on you, “This has nothing to do with you.”
“You’re my problem.” You replied firmly before glancing at the group of boys watching in awe behind him, “All of you are. How embarrassing & sad it is to come in here & harass her. Have you nothing better to do? Are your lives really that boring?”
Your eyes met the young man’s once again though this time he didn’t look as jovial as he had a moment ago, “Are your souls that empty?”
The man’s eyes fell to your neck then, his gaze narrowing. Then, before you could stop him, he reached forward & yanked on the necklace around your neck, snapping it off as if it was cheap metal (it wasn’t).
“Ha, well looky here, boys. We got another bible thumper in the midst.” The young man held up your necklace. It was a small golden heart pendant with ’God’ engraved on it.
“See, Jordan?” He held your necklace out of reach as you attempted to get it back, “Guess you’re not entirely alone. Another Jesus freak to keep you company.”
“Quit it!” You demanded, finally getting a hold of your necklace & ripping it out of his grasp.
“And get out!” You pointed to the door, “Seriously! Leave her alone, don’t come back here, & maybe find something decent inside yourselves.”
The boys behind him erupted into laughter at your response. The young man leaned against the counter, resting on his elbow as his eyes danced from you to Jordan, “Alright, fine. We’ll leave. But we’ll be back.”
He caught Jordan’s gaze, “Won’t we?”
“Go.” You repeated.
His eyes met yours once more & he laughed harshly before taking a step back, throwing his hands up together to mock praying, “Tell your God to forgive me, sister.”
The boys guffawed with roars of laughter.
One by one they slowly filed out, & you were relieved when the door finally slammed shut behind them.
“Geez, who were those guys?” You questioned out loud, not really expecting an answer.
“Kildare’s finest.” Jordan responded dryly, “Thanks, though. If you hadn’t said anything they would have been in here all night making a mess of the place.”
“They’re locals?” The possibility horrified you.
“They’re more than that. They’re the money of Kildare. Born & raised with silver spoons shoved up their… well, you know.”
You shook your head in disbelief, “I try to feel sorry for people like that but in this case, I can’t fathom it.”
“Believe me, Rafe Cameron is the last person on this island you should feel sorry for.”
“He the ring-leader?” You asked.
“Yup.” She nodded, “What’s ironically funny about him though is that he’s been picking on me since high school, ya know, for my beliefs. But then parades around town with his pack of wolves as if he’s a god himself. Just funny.”
“Mmm.” You frowned, not liking Rafe Cameron whatsoever the more you learned about him.
“I’m Jordan, by the way.” Jordan smiled, a real smile.
“_____.” You returned, offering your hand for her to shake.
“Oh!” Her eyes lit up for the first time since you entered the diner, “You’re the new reverend’s daughter.”
“Yeah.” You grinned proudly.
“I’ve watched a couple of his sermon’s on YouTube, he knows what he’s talking about.” She commented.
“Yes, he does.” If there was only one thing you could be proud of in life it would be your father.
“That’s so cool. I had heard he moved here with his daughter, but I don’t know, guess I thought you’d be younger.”
“18.” You replied, “Turn 19 in November.”
“I turn 19 in December!” Jordan squealed with excitement.
The two of you shared a laugh before your phone started ringing. You pulled it out & it was your dad.
“Sorry, my dad.”
“Oh, wow, I can’t wait to meet him.” She admitted.
“Are you a member of the church he’s working out of?”
“Yup.” Jordan smiled brightly, “It’ll be a nice change, the last reverend… well, he had some scandals under his robes.”
You had heard of them but didn’t like thinking about it too often.
You shot your dad a quick text as to where you were at & he responded with saying he’d be there in 10 minutes.
“Well, my dad is on his way to get me. Can we give you a ride home?”
Jordan clicked her tongue, “Shift just started, sadly.”
“Oh, right.” You recalled her showing up not long ago.
“But maybe we can trade numbers & hangout sometimes. I don’t have a lot of friends here.”
The confession disheartened you.
“I’d love to.”
The two of you traded numbers & made plans to hang out after church in two days. Your dad arrived shortly after & you waved goodbye to Jordan. On the drive home, you considered your first day in Kildare a success. You had explored, made friendly with a few locals, connected with Jordan, & practically spat in the face of a young wannabe god. All in all, you had nothing to complain about, but you were certain that before you went to bed tonight, you would pray for a happy, fulfilling year, a life-long friendship with Jordan, & for that lost & damaged soul whose blue eyes left you feeling almost sorry for them.
helllooo friends.
this is chapter one of what is going to be a very long, very extensive series featuring rafe cameron. it will be told in dual POV's (reader & rafe's), so the series will be ongoing for quite some time.
that being said, i am very excited to write this series & share it with you all.
as always, please share your thoughts with me via dropping a comment, reblogging with reviews, or talking to me in my inbox.
thank you all for your patience as this story unfolds as it will likely be 40 chapters considering half of it is told from rafe's pov.
love you all!
oona<3
Requests are currently CLOSED.
Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.
[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]
sorry to say but i will be going on an infedinite hiatus for the foreeable future. have some personal matters to attend to so no promises about posting anytime soon.
thank you for understanding & i hope to return sooner than later!
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
WC: 4.7k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
CHAPTER EIGHT | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER TEN
“Is this really necessary?” The strange man with a stranger name said as Ransom stared at him, a threshold between them.
Ransom was allowing the man to rest & stay the night, but only under lock & key. But what truly concerned you was the fact that Ransom was using the room you had been staying in as the cell for the man to stay in. If he would be in your room… where would you be? The thought sent a wave of fear through you.
“You’re more than welcome to leave.” Ransom returned, his hand on the doorknob as he prepared to shut it.
The scruffy man rolled his eyes but nodded once in compliance, “Alright.”
As Ransom swung the door closed, your eyes connected with the stranger. His filled with confusion & exhaustion. Yours filled with worry. He would be your only chance at escaping from Ransom, especially now that he knew you knew his dirty secret. With him locked away, your chances of survival were slim.
Ransom locked the bedroom door & tugged on it once to test the strength of it.
“Don’t think he’s stupid enough to attempt breaking out.” Ransom muttered to himself before he turned towards you.
The upstairs hallway was dark but you could still make out his eyes as he eyed you. It made your skin crawl knowing you were once again alone with him. Only a few hours prior was he threatening your life. Now… you didn’t know now what.
Not saying another word, Ransom caught you by your shoulder, his grip firm as he guided you towards his bedroom at the end of the hall. You immediately began resisting, digging your heels into the wooden floor & bracing against his hold. But your strength was no match for his. Ransom simply hoisted you up & over his shoulder.
Frustrated tears erupted from your eyes as you beat your hands against his back & wiggled about in his hold, but nothing you did deterred him. If only you had your bag you could sink a knife into his inner thigh or lower spine, rendering him incapacitated as you got away. But Ransom was smarter than you ever gave him credit for.
Inside Ransom’s room, the storm outside had returned. Heavy rain beat against the windows & the wind howled. It was a perfect reflection of how you were feeling on the inside.
Unceremoniously, Ransom dropped your body onto his bed. You instantly scrambled backwards, your eyes searching for any object you could use as a weapon. But your eyes had yet to land on anything useful when you felt a fierce grip on your ankle dragging you back towards the edge of the bed.
An inaudible whimper parted your lips as Ransom captured your jaw in his hand, his fingers digging into your cheeks.
“Behave.” He commanded before releasing you.
“Try anything & I’ll choke the life out of you.”
You knew he meant it. Your body shook with anticipation as you watched him approach a wardrobe & begin to undress. Your eyes never left his exposed back as he slipped out of his shirt, but you’d flick your eyes quickly every which way in the hopes of finding something, anything to help your situation. When Ransom finished getting changed, you were unwelcoming to the sight before you. He had changed into a pair of silk pajama pants yet remained shirtless. Even in the darkness, you could make the muscles that adorned his chest & abdomen, confirming his brutal strength.
He sighed as he approached you, his eyes appearing almost sad-like.
“You’ll be staying with me tonight. Don’t want you alone with that man in here. He could hurt you.”
You hurt me! You wanted to scream, but you only bit your lip, shaking your head in denial.
“Look, I know what happened earlier was scary, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…” He hung his head in defeat before moving to sit beside you. Your muscles tensed, wanting nothing more than to create distance, but his hand found your thigh as he gripped it. “I’m so angry with you. You shouldn’t have gone out there, & you certainly shouldn’t have exposed the gravesite. You could be infected now.”
A frown appeared on your face. Infected?
Ransom noted the expression on your face, “They were sick, _____. I may have told a lie or two, but the truth is that they were sick. I killed them before they could get me sick.”
You shook your head before using your hands. Your fingers moved as you spelled out one word. Liar.
His eyes watched your fingers move but it was clear he didn’t know what you were saying.
“I know you don’t believe me.” He guessed, “But it was either me or them. I chose me.”
He peered at you through the darkness, “You would’ve done the same.”
No, no. You made a face of disgust. You wish you had your pen & pad nearby, to communicate your distrust with him, but it was clear he knew you didn’t. However, he was determined to change your mind.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, but with an edge to it. He expected you to accept it.
You looked away from him. His hand on your thigh squeezed tighter.
“_____, look at me.” His voice was growing grittier, “Now!”
Jumping at the discomfort & his voice of fury, you forced yourself to look at him.
When you did, he offered a half-smile, though it was not a kind one.
“Let’s kiss & make-up.”
As he leaned in, your body kicked into overdrive & you leapt out of his grasp, falling to the floor.
Ransom scoffed, “So fucking dramatic.”
Before you could scramble to your feet, Ransom caught a handful of your hair before tossing you back onto the bed. He was quick to flip you over before capturing both of your wrists in his hands as he crawled over you, his meaty thighs on either side of your hips.
“Hold the fuck still, _____.” He gritted out, his teeth bared in a snarl.
You continued to shake underneath him, thrashing about every which way in an attempt to knock him off you, but every bout of energy proved aimless & you only grew more exhausted.
You recalled the early days of the world ending & the reality your father had warned you about.
‘The world was a man’s world before everything went to shit.’ He had said, ‘The end of the world only makes it worse. You have to survive harder. If you come across a man, there’s no end to what they will do to you.’
You should’ve never trusted Ransom, never forgotten about your father’s warning. You were dumb, so fucking dumb to think even for a second that you could have a sense of normalcy again. Now look where you were. Beneath the very man who promised you safety & was now attempting to get his hands under your clothes.
Tears erupted from you & you couldn’t help the sobs that came forth.
Just kill me, kill me, please. You begged internally. You didn’t want to face the harsh reality of your situation. You would much rather be buried alongside Ransom’s family then allow him to do what was clear he was going to do.
But as your sobs racked your body, you felt the pressure above you lessen. As soon as your wrists were free, you turned away, curling into a fetal position. You kept waiting to feel Ransom’s unwelcome touches & advanced movement but nothing came. Lifting your head fearfully, you glanced around the room until you spotted him sitting in a chair nearby. His eyes on you but his expression bear of any details of what he was thinking.
“You’re right.” He revealed, “It’s not the right time. I need to earn your trust again.”
What? Your lower lip shook as you failed to keep yourself from crying further.
“I will earn it again, _____. I swear to you. We will be happy.”
No. You thought to yourself, I will get away from you, or die trying.
The following morning you woke with a start. The sun was bright & shining into Ransom’s room. You sat up in a hurry, your eyes dancing around the room but you were alone. Falling asleep last night had been filled with dread. After Ransom made a false promise to not force you, he still made you sleep with him. You remained in your clothes from the night before & were forced to be held as he slept soundlessly behind you. You couldn’t even remember falling asleep yourself but as you moved off the bed, you didn’t feel rested whatsoever.
Tip-toeing towards the door, you braced yourself against it as you listened to any sign of life on the other side. Was the man from the night already gone? Where was Ransom? You would be going out there blindly.
Calming your nerves as best as you could, your hand hovered over the knob before you ultimately turned it. The door opened slowly before you poked your head out. The upstairs hallway was barren of life but you noted the door to your former bedroom was open. You listened for any sounds of either of the men nearby but there was nothing.
You had just taken a single step over the threshold when a gunshot sounded. You froze where you stood.
Jumping into action, you raced forward & down the stairs. The gunshot had come from outside, the backyard, but that wouldn’t stop you. You didn’t know who it was—Ransom or the stranger. But you needed a weapon to defend yourself.
But your attempts were futile as you ran into the kitchen. Ransom was rushing inside himself, bracing himself against the back door, a palm braced against the side of his head near his eye. You didn’t miss the blood spilling from between his fingers.
He spotted you then, “Get the med kit, _____.” He demanded in an eerily calm tone.
You didn’t move though. Your eyes flickered to the windows. Was the stranger nearby? What happened? Why was Ransom bleeding? Would he be coming for you next? Was your luck really so goddamn dumb that now two men would be trying to kill you?
“_____!” Ransom yelled, making you jump.
Willing yourself to move, you found the med kit under the kitchen sink. But as you did, you noted all knives in the knife block had been removed. Anything of use that was heavy was missing, as well.
Fuck.
You moved warily towards Ransom but when you were close enough, he snatched the med kit for your hands. As he removed his hand from his head, you were disturbed to see the gnarly gash that ran from his hairline above his temple down towards his eye. It was bleeding heavily.
“Hold this.” He told you as he handed you some gauze.
Ransom splashed his face with some hydrogen peroxide. He hissed at the sting he likely felt before wiping the wound with antiseptic wipes.
“Wrap.” He gritted out, reaching out & forcing you to your knees.
You did as you were told, wrapping the gauze around his head & over the wound snugly. Ransom breathed out harshly, spit collecting on his lips as you secured the bandage. When you were finished, you backed away but kept your eyes on him.
Ransom was quick to rise to his feet, turning to face the back door as he peered outside.
“Motherfucker.” He spit. He spun to face you.
You signed, what happened?
“Asshole attacked me for the gun.” Ransom began pacing.
Why did you have the gun? You wanted to sign but didn’t. He wouldn’t understand. And it would only give him opportunity to lie if he did.
“He was infected.” Ransom revealed as his eyes met yours, “I had to put him down, _____. We could both be sick now for all we know.”
You frowned. He had seemed fine last night. But then again, you had yet to see an actual infected person.
Without your pen & pad & his inability to know sign, you mimicked a gun & pointed it outside.
“He has the gun.” Ransom said, “But he took off. Had a fuckin’ knife on him, a blunt one, but look at the damage it did. Tetanus shots aren’t a thing anymore. We have to keep an eye on this.” He pointed to his head.
He was speaking to you so casually it unnerved you. Ransom was not a good person, that much you knew, & he was dangerous as well. But should you have been surprised by the fact that he could speak to you so casually? As if everything that had occurred the night prior was long forgotten? If you were infected it then you welcomed it. More so, if his wound worsened, you would aid it along to his demise.
You were not friends nor companions. Ransom was your enemy. But perhaps his denial of it would be your strength.
Earn your trust, that’s what Ransom promised. Would it be possible to lull Ransom into believing he had earned your trust once more? Would you get the upper hand that way with better planning? You weren’t so naïve to think it’d be that easy. But there would only be one way to find out.
Reaching for a nearby water bottle, you hesitantly approached him before offering it. Ransom eyed the bottle before his eyes met yours. You signed for him to drink. And he did.
“We’ll have to keep our eyes peeled for the next couple days. No going outside.” He told you.
Part of you wondered if he was lying about the stranger getting away but how would that benefit him. After all, you didn’t see the gun that had gone off on him. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Or maybe even he had killed the stranger & hid the gun before coming in. Nothing he said could be taken as is. You had to consider every possibility & work within those chances.
This was your life. Fuck Ransom’s. If he wanted to play psychological warfare, you’d learn how & you’d do it better.
The next 24 hours went as smoothly as possible considering the circumstances. You were constantly on edge of Ransom changing tunes & he was constantly on edge of the stranger returning. But he had yet, if he ever would. Talk between the two of you was minimum. You kept with your silence & coldness & Ransom allowed you that space as if he was a boyfriend who simply pissed you off. But you had to make him believe he would earn your trust, it’s the only way it would work in your favor.
Currently, you had just finished getting dressed for the night. Ransom wanted to ‘lighten the tension’; he was sadly determined to win you back all without knowing your true agenda. So, you didn’t resist him, instead playing the part of a wounded animal pleasing their savior. It would have to do for now.
In the dining room, it was no surprise that Ransom had tied both of your ankles to the legs of the chair. He left your arms free to eat comfortably & even provided you with your pen & pad. It appeared he missed talking with you, even if it wasn’t with your voice.
Dinner was simple. Veggies from the garden & mashed potatoes. You wouldn’t complain. It was better than what you had been eating before stumbling into this hell-hole.
Ransom brought out another bottle of wine & poured you a glass but when he raised his glass to clink with yours, you simply pushed the glass away with your knuckles. You would never drink again if you could help it, let alone in his presence. He sighed wearily but didn’t argue about it. In one gulp, he managed to down the whole glass before pouring himself another.
He still wore a bandage around his head though you had changed it for him multiple times since it happened. Every time you removed the bandage you hoped for some signs of infection but had yet to see any. You still kept your fingers crossed.
The two of you ate in tense silence, though Ransom chewed his food comfortably compared to you. You ate with determination, anything that would give you energy & strength when you would surely need it most. But you had to control your speed, anything fast would draw his suspicious eye.
By the time you finished your plate, Ransom had long cleared his & was already on his fourth glass of wine. The bottle was empty & he continued to take large gulps rather than savored sips. Perhaps him being drunk would work in your favor, but it could also work against you. The last time he had been drunk… either way, you couldn’t count on the alcohol to help you.
He took your plates away & you listened as he dumped them into the sink. When he returned, he had a jovial half-smile on his face. He eyed you & you gripped the arms of the chair as he approached.
“It’s been a while since we’ve danced. I want to dance.”
His desire made your stomach flip. It was too close for comfort. He would have the upper hand no matter what despite his inebriated state should he choose to attack you again. You were relieved you didn’t have a single sip of the wine, knowing you may need your full mobility & clarity.
Reluctantly, you rose to your feet as he reached down & untied you. He kept his hand on the small of your back as he guided you from the dining room to the living room. In the corner was the vinyl player & Ransom kept you within reach of him as he walked to it to flip a new record on before playing.
Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me to the Moon began & Ransom smiled smugly as he turned to face you. You forced yourself not to resist as he tugged on your hand, practically shoving you into his chest as he began swaying your bodies together. Your feet tangled within themselves, the heels you wore making it difficult to keep up with him.
But as the song continued, you found yourself being led every which way as he turned you about furniture & moved his along your waist & back to keep you secured against him. Your breathing would come in erratic waves as you feared for how quickly a moment like this could change. It had once before.
Yet Ransom kept it up. The wine in his system kept him moving, his eyes going from closed in bliss to peering down at you with adoration. To any bystanders that may peek through the windows, they would likely perceive it as a happily domesticated couple who were dancing their woes away, but in reality, you were a trapped in a snare. This was your cage. Not the house, not his bedroom, but his arms.
As the song came to a close & the next one began, Ransom slowed down your movements, his face resting against the top of your head.
“You smell so good.” He practically whispered.
That was the first red flag. One hand was one your back, the other holding yours by your shoulder, but you felt as both hands grew tense.
He pulled only slightly away to meet your eyes, “I know things have been different lately.”
Different? You wanted to scream. Different is an understatement.
“But we’ll get better. You’ll see.” He swore & it made your throat constrict.
You avoided his eyes, unable to fathom the misplaced adoration you saw there. But you heard him inhale deeply before shaking his head, a gentle laugh reverberating from his chest.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The hand holding yours cupped your cheek & you went stiff, “You were meant to end up here, _____. We both know that.”
No. Tears threatened to fall but you kept them at bay. Now was not the time to break down. You had to remain present & resilient.
But then he angled your neck upwards & brought his mouth to yours. You resisted the kiss by not returning it. He sighed into it, kissing you harder, as if he needed you to breathe. Bile rose in your throat, your dinner threatening to make a revival. After a few more seconds, you couldn’t take it anymore & attempted to pull away. But his arm around your back tightened & his hand on your neck kept you in place so he could continue his soft assault.
A whimper sounded from behind your tight lips & it only seemed to stir him on. Ransom pulled away, his eyes glaring into yours, “Don’t reject me. Not again.”
But you were, you had to, you couldn’t allow that. You would rather die.
When he noted the defiance in your eyes though, an eerie & dangerous light burnt out from behind his own.
“I guess I’ll just have to make you.”
Before you could make your move, he moved faster. With a harsh shove, the wind got knocked out of you landed on the closest loveseat. Ransom was quick to fall on top of you & you wailed silently as you began to kick out your legs. He was quick to trap your legs between his own as he captured your wrists.
“Quit fighting me, _____.” He said lowly, “You’re not going anywhere.”
But it wouldn’t stop you. Using the only form of defense you could think of, you leaned upwards & sunk your teeth into the meat under his collarbone. Ransom had not been expecting it & he yelled, shooting backwards & leaving your arms free to move. Not wasting a second for him to recover or inspect the bite, you swung your arm & clocked him in the chin with your fist. You had never taken any fighting classes so you doubted it would do much, but it did enough to make him slide off you momentarily.
Quickly & lithely, you rolled off the couch & sprung to your feet, aiming for the kitchen. But just as you were rounding the corner, you felt a sharp pain erupt from your scalp as he caught you before you could outrun him. He yanked you backwards but you caught yourself on the threshold.
“Fucking bitch!” He hissed, tugging once more. Instinctively, you kicked out behind you & caught him in the leg. It wouldn’t slow him down but it eased his grasp on your head. You grabbed at the closest thing you could, which happened to be an empty, expensive looking face on the edge of an end table & you spun around before smashing it over his head.
Ransom fell to his knees in a daze & you bolted from the living room. Your goal was to exit out the back door & run through the forest. You didn’t care where you ended up or that you had none of your gear, you just needed to get away. But as you ran into the back door, it wouldn’t move. You huffed out frustratedly, fingering to get it unlocked but as you did, it only opened for an inch. Your eyes cast upwards & you noticed the chain.
But you had no time to unlatch it when you heard Ransom running up behind you. Crouching & jumping out of the way, Ransom slammed into the door himself while you took off through the dining room. He was hot on your tail, a few feet to spare, & you yanked on the dining room chairs as they fell over, forcing him to trip over them.
Racing out of the dining room, you considering the front door but knew those would be double or triple locked. It would be futile. Ultimately, you ran up the stairs & aimed straight for his bedroom. If he kept anything in the house that could be used against him, it would be in there. But you needed time. As soon as you entered his room, you heard his footfalls at the bottom of the stairs, his furious yells as he called you vile names.
You swung the door closed & locked it. He would certainly have a key so you need to block it. There was a dresser near & you wasted no time in putting all your strength into moving it. The door shook at the shock of Ransom’s entire body throwing himself into it.
“I have the keys, _____.” He toyed with you from the other side but it didn’t deter you. The wood floor groaned as you pushed with your legs until the dresser was in front of the door.
“Fuck!” You heard him yell from the other side, “Fucking keys…” His voice carried away as you listened to him amble down the stairs, likely in search of the one item he would need to get to you.
You took the extra time as an opportunity to quickly pile any furniture you were strong enough to lift & placing them on the dresser. Once you felt it would do for now, you ran to Ransom’s bed & peeked under it, hoping to find a shotgun or other weapon. But all that was under his bed was a single sock & dust bunnies.
Your heart was racing as you glanced around & that’s when you spotted the wardrobe. Your father had kept his guns in his own wardrobe back at your home.
Racing towards it, you flung the doors open & tossed out clothes in search of any cool, metallic feeling. Panic soared throughout your body, beginning to lose hope that there would be nothing, but just as those thoughts were passing through you, you finally felt it, something.
Gasping, you yanked on the object and were relieved to have found a rifle.
Yanking it out, you dropped to your knees & began to see if it was loaded. It wasn’t. And then you heard Ransom on the stairs again.
Rushing, you desperately searched the rest of the wardrobe for ammo but nothing came about. Then your eyes looked up. On top.
As fast as you possibly could, you dragged one of the few chairs in the room over & climbed on top of it. You still weren’t tall enough but you could at least search blindly with your hand. And as you did, you felt the coarse cardboard.
A breath of relief flooded you & you dropped the box to the ground, the ammo clattering loudly.
“What the fuck is that?” Ransom yelled, “What are you doing?”
Ignoring his calls, you quickly popped out the ammo & had to quickly remember how to load a rifle. As you did, you heard the door to the room unlock followed by the grunts of struggle as Ransom attempted to push the door open. Thank fuck for his families expensive taste otherwise the dresser would’ve caved. But he did manage to get the door cracked open only slightly & your eyes met.
You wasted no time. Raised the gun. And fired.
A loud boom sounded & your ears rang.
Ransom jumped back out of sight & you were unsure if you even shot him.
But you waited silently for any sign of life, not daring to move closer.
“Alright, I’m sorry!” He yelled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to scare you!”
Bullshit! If you hadn’t fired he would keep coming.
“I’m leaving, okay?” Ransom hollered out, “I don’t want my fuckin’ head blown off, let alone by a fucking teenage girl.”
“We’ll just separate for the night, okay?”
How calm he sounded would never fail to amaze you. He had just once again tried to assault you as well as chased you around the mansion. You had just shot at him. And he was so calm.
“Just relax. I won’t try anymore, I’m sorry, _____, okay? I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded sad but you didn’t buy it for a second.
“I’m leaving now.” Indeed his voice did sound far away & your ears strained to listen as his footfalls descended the stairs.
Still, having the gun wouldn’t be enough. All you had was this room on the second floor to hide in. And he had the entire mansion to prepare for you.
You needed a plan. And you needed it now.
my writing got away from me & this is taking another direction then i had planned. not sure how i feel about it but what do ya'll think so far?
please let me know via askbox, comments, or reblogging w reviews. they always help.
thank you for reading!
oona<3
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Rafe Cameron has everything a man would want. Now he’s looking to settle down. He thinks he’s found the one that checks all the boxes, except she’s not you.
Prologue
At twenty-nine years old, Rafe Cameron was the most eligible bachelor in the business world. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, using them, ghosting them, then moving onto the next. And now as he was nearing his thirties, his father was begging him to finally settle down with a respectable woman and start a family.
“Sarah’s married to that pogue boy. Now when are gonna grow up and do something with your life?” Ward said the last time they had talked. Rafe nearly broke his phone after that conversation.
He knew he didn’t have anything left to prove to his father, but hearing Ward compare him to his little sister once again hurt his pride, and he wasn’t going to let that slide. Nope.
He had a plan. He was going to find someone who fit into his world. Someone who would turn heads whenever they walked into a room. Someone who commanded respect and attention. The perfect woman.
------------------------------
The event was in full swing as Rafe leaned against the balcony, staring down at the people who were invited to the gala. Only the richest, most successful people were invited. If he was looking for his match, she’d be here for sure.
“Dude, what about Charlotte Goldberg? Her parents own like a dozen diamond mines, plus she’s hot.” Topper pointed at pretty girl wearing a sparkly black dress. He’d been trying all night to get Rafe to at least agree with one suggestion.
“Nah man, I’d rather not let my name be associated with blood diamonds” said Rafe unimpressed, “and Kelce went out with her sister. Said their family is starting a reality TV show. I don’t want no one to know my personal shit like that.”
Kelce nodded. “I broke up with her last year. At least they shot on my good side.”
Topper groaned. “What about her? I heard she’s a humanitarian.” He gestured to a woman with short black hair and wearing a long white dress.
“She just divorced her third husband. I’m not lookin’ to be number four.”
Kelce snickered at Rafe’s response. Topper was going to make another suggestion before his date Ruthie called him. “Topper! Where’s my champagne?! You’ve been gone for thirty minutes already!”
That dumbass came with Ruthie? He thought to himself as he saw the girl link her arm with Topper to bring him towards another group of people and leaving him and Kelce alone.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Rafe lifted himself from the balcony and started to walk towards the crowd. If he wanted to find someone who was wife material, it would be better if he looked for himself than to listen to Topper.
Kelce followed behind him. “Dude, don’t you think you’re just being a lil’ hard on yourself? Girls throw themselves at your feet. What more could you want?”
Rafe inwardly groaned. As he began to formulate his excuse to leave his friend, he heard the crowd quiet down.
He turned around and saw a young blond woman wearing a stunning gold evening gown walk through the entrance. Her flowy blonde hair shined whenever she turned toward the paparazzi and when she smiled, her teeth were as white as pearls Her curves made some women burn with jealousy as they saw their partners ogle at her figure. Her hips swayed as she walked through the crowd. She knew how to make an entrance alright.
“Who is she?” Rafe asked.
“You don’t know who that is!? That’s Heather Hayworth! Her family owns Hayworth Hotels and like a bunch of other businesses around the world.” Kelce said incredulously.
"Is she single?"
"For now. Rumor has it she's trying to find a partner her father approves of so she can take over when he retires next year. Allegedly. She's kinda like you in a way."
All the right things were being said to Rafe as he zeroed in on the blonde bombshell.
Was she beautiful? Check.
Was her family rich? Check.
Was she part of the land development/business world? Check.
If Rafe had paid attention more closely to who walked in, he would have also noticed you.
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
WC: 3.7k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
CHAPTER SEVEN | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER NINE
It was an hour before dawn when you scared yourself awake, nearly falling off a loveseat in the sitting room. You rubbed at your eyes but glanced around worriedly. You couldn’t recall the dream, rather nightmare, you were just having, but it left goosebumps caked across your skin. Gathering your sanity, you reached down to touch your ankle that rested on a pillow. You had found some painkillers stashed away after your bath so when you touched your ankle, you felt almost nothing.
You tested the limits of your ankle by standing up. It was still dull & uncomfortable but you could manage walking. You had to.
The storm had passed & glancing out the windows proved that it was calm outside then. You couldn’t waste a moment longer. Ransom could be back at any minute. You needed to have the right questions before you accused him of anything.
Rushing as quickly as possible towards the back, you swung open the back door & half-walked, half-limped to the greenhouse. Your gear was still in there but you’d move it back later. Right now, what you needed to find was a shovel. Fortunately, you found one very quickly & used it as a cane as you began trekking through the forest to find the horrifying discovery you made the previous night.
It took you about fifteen minutes thanks to your swollen ankle, but you eventually found it. Again, once you spotted the exposed bones, you hesitated walking towards it, fearful of what you’d unbury, of who. But you swallowed your discomfort & forced yourself onwards.
The heavy rain had softened the earth so you had little need for the shovel as you dug at the dirt around the finger with your hands. Mud caked your fingers & palms but you kept going, determined to uncover the truth. Bile rose in your throat as you uncovered the space around the finger, surely leading to more fingers, a hand, a wrist, & so on. Part of you questioned whether or not you should keep going. Perhaps you should just leave. Pack your things & go. Ransom will likely search for you, but you could have a head start.
But you couldn’t just leave. You had to know.
Pressing your lips together, you kept on. Your hands & fingers ached but you eventually managed to expose the first face. You brought your hands to your mouth as you stared at the face buried in dirt before you.
It was Meg. You recognized her from the family photos. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but her mouth open, covered in dirt. It had been her finger protruding through the earth. You fell backwards, your thoughts racing.
This was wrong. Everything about it.
Everything Ransom told you… it was a lie?
You knew it had to be as you reasoned with what was before you. Her flesh was still on her bones. That wouldn’t have been the case if she died over a year ago. And her mouth was open… her finger exposed. She had been alive, trying to claw her way out.
Oh, my god. You felt tears prick at your eyes.
Ransom…
You didn’t want to believe it. How could you? But you knew better. This is what your father trained you for years for. The dangers of humanity.
Trying to ignore looking at her face, you continued to uncover the space around her. You switched to the shovel, wanting to move faster. The painkillers were beginning to wear off but you couldn’t stop. Your adrenaline & pursuit of truth was stronger.
The shovel hit against something soft but also dense. It was another body. You fell to your knees & dug quickly at the ground like a starving wolf.
Another face. It was one of the aunt’s.
You finished exposing the rest of the body. She was completely intact.
You recalled what Ransom had said about his aunts & how they died…
‘There was nothing left of Joni & Donna after he got his hands on them. They looked like fish food.’
She wasn’t torn up, but she was murdered. A bullet hole was centered on her forehead.
Unable to contain your disgust, you collapsed sideways of the gravesite & vomited. Little came out, mostly stomach acid, but you kept vomiting. When it had finally subsided, you willed yourself to continue.
You had to have been out there for another hour or so, enough time for the sky to lighten. By the time you finished uncovering the whole truth, you stood above the bodies, staring hopelessly down at them.
The uncles were there, the cousin, Jacob—who Ransom said never made it back to the mansion when they left for Worcester.
A couple of them had decomposed more so than others but they were all still relatively fresh. Meaning they hadn’t been dead long.
And nothing, absolutely nothing that Ransom told you had been the truth.
You had to leave. Now.
Fate worked against you as you found your way back to the estate & ran inside. Your ankle wailed but you pushed yourself as you climbed the stairs to your bedroom on the second floor.
You didn’t want to confront Ransom. There was nothing he could say or do to ever make you trust him again. All you needed to do was get out unscathed, & fast.
But just as you began shoving your things into your backpack, you heard the engine of a truck grow closer to the mansion.
No.
Rushing out of the bedroom, you ran into a spare room across the hall & pressed your face against the window. It was Ransom. In the bed of the truck was a generator. At least that had been true. But no matter, you had to hurry.
Returning back to your room, you zipped up your backpack & spun around to leave. You were still missing a few items but you didn’t care. Your flight instinct had kicked in & you needed to leave immediately.
But just as you made a few steps down the stairs, you spotted Ransom through the window by the front door. He had yet to see you. You attempted to move faster down the stairs, hoping you’d be out of sight before he ever swung the door open, but your ankle croaked in pain & you felt your legs slip out from under you.
Pain erupted through your body as you fell down the stairs, knocking your limbs every which way along the way. Then a hot white flash pierced your mind as you smacked the back of your head on the wooden floor.
Stars blanketed your vision & you groaned, trying to get up, but none of your limbs would work.
You heard the front door open, followed by a concerned voice before Ransom’s face appeared in your line of sight.
He frowned down at you as he reached for you.
You tried to fight him off, mouthing ‘no’ over & over again. But soon your vision darkened & the world you knew disappeared.
When you came to, you winced. But it was muffled & you wriggled your head to wake yourself. As you did, you found yourself sitting at one end of the dining room table. You felt a cloth wrapped your face, covering your mouth. When you made to remove it, you realized your arms had been tied behind you to the chair you sat in.
Glancing down, panic soaring through you, you were horrified to see yourself in another vintage style dress. Your knees were exposed & you noted the bruises on them.
Your memory came rushing back to you as you recalled your last moments. Finding the gravesite, learning the truth about Ransom, trying to escape before slipping down the stairs. But now you were tied up, unable to defend yourself.
Frightened, you began pulling at your restraints but to no vain. They had been secured tightly. Tears pricked at your eyes.
A whistling sounded from the kitchen & you felt your heart nearly stop.
The whistling grew closer & then Ransom appeared in the threshold from the kitchen, carrying two plates of food. His eyes landed on yours & he smiled solemnly.
“Good. You’re awake.” His tone was light but there a coldness to it, a disconnect.
You watched him as he circled around to your end of the table before placing a dish before you.
“Took quite a fall, kiddo.” He shared before sitting down in the chair to the right of you.
“Was gonna let you rest on the couch but then…” He sighed, staring blankly at the wall across from him, “I saw what you did.”
His eyes flashed to yours & there was a darkness lying there.
“Why, _____?” He almost sounded… heartbroken. “Why’d you have to go out there? I specifically told you not to leave the house.”
A dark chuckle sounded from the depths of his chest as he shook his head, “But I should’ve known better. You are just a kid, after all. You don’t listen.”
You struggled against the restraints once more & his eyes peeked a glance at your attempts. He took a sip from a glass of wine before him, sucking his teeth before speaking, “Wouldn’t bother if I were you. Only way you’ll get out of them is if I let you.”
His proclamation made you struggle harder.
He took a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully as you whined behind your lips & felt your skin burning from the ropes. He hummed lightly to himself, likely enjoying your pitiful attempts.
A fit of frustration could be heard behind your muffled covered mouth. Ransom stared at you, his face expressionless.
“I know you’re probably thinking the mouth cover is pointless given your choice to be mute—” Actually, I’m thinking you’re a psychotic. “But it’s meaningful to me. Symbolic, if you will.”
Ransom reached out to brush his knuckles against your cheek & you jolted away. Anger graced his features.
“Ungrateful shit.” He seethed, “Only reason you’re alive is because of me.”
Inhaling deeply, he appeared to calm himself down, his nostrils flaring, before he returned his eyes to yours.
“I’m sure you have questions, & I’m willing to answer them.” He reached out again & this time you were unable to avoid his touch. He grasped your chin harshly, forcing you to face him, “For a price, of course.”
You narrowed your eyes at him in defiance. Whatever it was, you would not do it.
“As always, I only ask for your voice. Want answers? Then ask them.” He squeezed, making you wince, “Properly.”
As he let go, he swiftly tore the covering from your mouth, leaving a wake of stinging pain along your mouth. It had been tape.
“So.” He swirled his glass of wine before leaning back in his chair, “Ask away.”
But you pursed your lips, gathering what little saliva you could conjure up, & spit at him.
Your assault landed directly on his face, right in the crevice of one of his nostrils.
Ransom fluttered his eyes closed, his teeth baring only slightly. He reached for a cloth napkin & wiped at his face before eyeing the spit. Then his eyes flashed to yours.
Before you could brace yourself, he backhanded you. Your cheek erupted with a scorching heat & his assault had hit you so hard your chair had slightly lifted.
A small, quiet gasp escaped you & you tasted blood on your tongue as the corner of your mouth seeped.
He was quick to stabilize your chair before practically shoving his face into yours, “One more time like that & I’ll bury you with the rest of them.”
Then he kicked his own chair out from beneath him. Swiftly, he grabbed his plate of food & threw it across the room. The sound of glass shattering made you jump slightly. Ransom’s chest was heaving before he braced both closed fists on top of the table.
“Great.” He laughed half-heartedly, “Waste of food.”
He stood straight, cracking his neck both ways before his eyes fell to you. You stared up at him wide-eyed.
“We could have been happy.” Ransom fell to a single knee before he rested both his hands on your thighs, “We can still be happy. What you saw out there… that’s not me. You don’t know the full story. But I’ll tell you everything. I’ll answer all your questions, just—” He squeezed your thighs tightly, making your muscles tense at the action, “Talk to me.”
A shudder parted your lips & Ransom must’ve mistook it for you attempting to talk.
“C’mon, you can do it, I know you can. You did before you passed out.”
What? You frowned at him, confused.
“You told me ‘no’.” He grinned like a love-sick puppy, “I heard it. It was breathy, but you spoke. So I know you can talk.”
You remembered saying ‘no’ internally, perhaps mouthing it, but you didn’t actually say the words. Did you?
“One word, that’s it. Just ask me ‘why’. One word & I’ll tell you everything, I’ll let you go, & we can keep going. I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes softened before one of his hands slipped in between your thighs. It didn’t move any further beyond that & you were grateful, but you were still at the mercy of that monster.
“But I will if I have to.”
And you believed him. You’d be an idiot not to. You were an idiot in the first place for ever believing a word he said, for even staying at the estate, for letting him help you. You should’ve left the first time. Walked away & never known the horrors that lied buried beneath the property.
Ultimately, you knew you needed to survive. Dying wasn’t an option. You fucked up one time by choosing to trust in Ransom, you would not make the mistake again. But you did need him to trust you. Only then could you succeed in escaping his clutches.
Nodding once, you felt a single tear escape.
“Yeah?” Ransom appeared overjoyed before reaching behind him to drag his chair closer. He sat down, his knees brushing against yours as he waited for you to speak.
“Wh—” You swallowed, your mouth dry. It sounded only like air passing through your lips, but Ransom’s eyes widened with hope.
It had been a long time since you spoke, you forgot what your own voice sounded like, you weren’t sure you’d recognize it anymore. Clearing your throat, you jutted your chin towards his wine. Ransom pieced together what you were asking & quickly brought the rim of the glass to your lips. You took a healthy sip, wetting your lips & soothing your dry throat.
“Wh—” It was cut short by the sound of pounding at the front door.
Both you & Ransom froze, your eyes connecting.
Did you hear that right? It sounded like someone was---
Another set of pounding knocks sounded through the mansion.
It was real!
Before you could use what little sound you could produce to scream, Ransom slapped a hand over your mouth.
“Shut your mouth, shut up!” He gritted out. You whined behind his palm, attempting to bite at it, but he was quick to replace his hand with the cloth napkin he used to wipe your spit off his face. He stuffed it deep into your mouth & you choked, trying to turn your head away.
“I need help! Please!” A muffled voice sounded from near the front.
It was a man’s voice & he sounded like he was panicking.
Ransom disappeared into the kitchen. You took the opportunity to try & scoot your chair away from the table. You’d never make it to the door in time, especially given the state & position you were in, but if you could make yourself fall over just as Ransom opened the door, you could draw the strangers attention.
But alas, Ransom reappeared in the dining room, this time carrying a gun. It wasn’t a hunting rifle either, but an actual handgun.
No!
You couldn’t let him kill another person.
Ransom was about to surpass you, stomping towards the hallway, but you forced yourself to muffle words from behind the cloth. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes falling to yours. Immediately, he rushed over to you & removed the cloth, “What, what is it? What’d you say?”
You shook your head, tears falling yet again, “Do—don’t.”
A euphoric expression birthed on his face as he stared at you in adoration.
“There it is.” He closed the distance & pressed his lips to yours. You whined into the kiss, trying to remove yourself from it but he kept a hand at the back of your head to keep you in place.
Ransom pulled away from you, his eyes glancing to the hallway before they returned to you.
“You don’t want me to kill him?” He asked as if it was wildest request you could ask of him.
You shook your head fast, begging him with your eyes. Forcing yourself into his favor, your rested your forehead against his own.
Ransom released a breath of air, nodding once, “Okay.”
He cupped your cheek, to which you leant into it, “But no promises.”
With that, Ransom left you in the dining room but not before stuffing your mouth with the cloth yet again.
Tears blurred your vision but you remained still to listen.
You heard the door swing open, followed by a dull thud.
“Thank you, thank you.” The man voiced, “I fuckin’ fell in the dark. I think I broke my arm.”
You had yet to hear Ransom speak which only worried you.
Silence followed for some time & you felt your nerves begin to skyrocket. What was going on?
But not a moment later, did you hear footfalls sound behind you. You glanced over your shoulder & spotted Ransom just as he re-entered the dining room.
“Guy needs help. We’ll help him then he’ll leave.” Ransom announced quietly to you.
We?
Just as the thought passed through your head, Ransom produced a pocketknife from his pocket before cutting at your restraints. Immediately, you brought your arms to your front, rubbing away the pain from the ropes digging into your skin. But Ransom was quick to yank you to your feet, capturing your chin in his hands, “One word to him & I’ll kill you both. Understand?”
You nodded, knowing it to be true. But this was your chance. If you somehow got the stranger to help you, you could overpower Ransom.
Ransom dragged you along as he entered the kitchen, pulling out medical supplies from one of your survival kits. You felt yourself shaking but accepted whatever he handed you. Once Ransom had everything, he led you towards the sitting room.
Upon entering the room, your eyes landed on a young man, probably not much older than you, as he sat in one of the chairs. The shirt he wore was torn at the hem & dirtied from however long he had been wearing it for. His hair was longer, past his ears, & he had a short, scruffy beard. His eyes raised to yours, widening slightly, likely not expecting there to be another person.
Ransom grunted to the man for him to move his arm & rest it on the table.
“I’m going to set it, she’s going to wrap it.”
“Yeah, alright.” He responded, his eyes meeting yours once more.
You lowered your eyes & got to your knees beside Ransom.
“Need something to bite on?” Ransom questioned, none-so-gently grabbing the strangers arm.
“Just fuckin’ get it over with.” The man contorted his face, preparing for the pain.
“On three.” Ransom glanced between the two of you.
“One—” Then he snapped the strangers bone back into place.
“Fuck!” The man yelled, immediately trying to jolt backwards, but Ransom was quick to keep his stable so you could quickly wrap the arm. You had been too distracted by the stranger & trying to convey your problems with your eyes you had missed the bone sticking out of his arm. The open wound gushed with blood & Ransom quickly reached for a bottle of liquor to pour over the wound.
The man hissed, cursing under his breath. You worked as fast & steadily as you could given the circumstances as you wrapped his arm. Once you finished, Ransom stood up, stepping over you, “I’ll get you something for the pain.”
You watched as Ransom left the room. The second he disappeared from sight, you spun back towards the man. He was resting his back against one of the cushioned chairs, holding his arm in his other hand with his eyes closed as he focused on his breathing.
“A—” It was only a small sound but enough for him to open his eyes.
He gave you a strange look, his brows furrowing, “Thanks.”
You moved your mouth again, unable to find words.
“Hel—”
“Sorry ‘bout her.” Ransom appeared, making you jump, “She’s mute.”
The stranger’s eyes rose from yours to Ransom.
“Seems like she’s trying to say something.”
“That so?” Ransom grinned wryly, his eyes falling to yours. You glanced back at him, shaking your head once.
“She tries sometimes, but it comes out garbled. Best to ignore her than entertain her.”
“Right.” The man said, tossing you a confused look.
“Your arm should be fine now.” Ransom shared, “We’ll give it a night but come morning you’re outta here.”
The man scoffed, narrowing his eyes, “Very hospitable.”
Ransom didn’t appreciate the challenge masked behind sarcasm, “I could rebreak it & send you on your way instead.”
The stranger chuckled lightly but raised his uninjured arm in surrender, “I’m good.”
Ransom then handed the man a few pills with a glass of water.
“Name’s Ransom.”
“The fuck kind of name is that?” The man questioned as he downed the pills & chugged the water.
Ransom cocked his head, “This is _____.”
“Right, Ransom & _____, the mute.”
“That’s right. And yours?”
The man wiped at his mouth, his eyes dancing between the two of you, “Rafe. My name is Rafe Cameron.”
teehee! i know it's been a hot minute but hopefully this juicy chapter makes up for it!
as always, please share your thoughts w me via dropping a comment, talking to me in the ask box, or reblogging w reviews. your feedback means everything!
thank you for reading
oona<3
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i’ve been here since the beginning, since “rise”. i remember everything and everyone. sayyed, millie, nuha, bear, kai, and ofc micah and rafe. i remember everything that the reader went through from the moment they found out about the world ended on the side of the road, to the very end where she fought for the end of her suffering, and all the horrible things rafe did to her in between.
i remember the finale and how i read it in my room in complete darkness under my blanket. i remember being shocked and devastated and having to take days away to gather myself and my thoughts.
i also recall it being said that chapter 8 would be the reveal and just like then i had to step away after finding out.
i mean…ofc. it had to be him. he had to “lose” to be “punished” to “suffer” and reader had to be free of hers. after everything, she deserved to be free of him one way or another. his punishment was life without her and everyone he ever knew. no longer the big bad monster. he was nothing, to no one, all at one. it helps me sleep at night to think that sayyed was waiting for her on the other side.
as for our current reader…lord. it was jarring seeing him flip the switch so fast on her. even though it was to be expected. seeing him switch back and forth…men really are great until the gotta be. mask? off. like this man is different kind of sick. he didn’t have lackies, he killed his entire family on. his. own.
and unlike our previous reader, she’s completely isolated, right from the start. everyone she knew is gone.
i genuinely don’t know what to expect next. for reader or for rafe. the way i see it, they’re both in grave danger. i have a feeling he’ll try to overstay his welcome though. he might even try to get at reader and make her his new victim or maybe just be too friendly and talkative with her for ransoms liking. either way i don’t see him lasting too long. this is ransom’s story after all. but who knows. i’ve been gagged and gooped before lol.
it really is such a gift to be able to read your work.
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
WC: 9k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
It was hard work being a young woman in your field, the youngest—in fact. You worked your ass off at a young age to get where you were, to earn the respect & regard for your expert opinion. Graduating high school at 16, accepted into Harvard Law by 20, passing your bar exams with flying colors at 23. You won your first case before your 25th birthday & completed your judicial clerkship position under a highly respected lawyer in your field of interest by the time you were 27. By the time you were 29 you had published a handful of essays that were used as reference by professors beyond your years in their own teachings & then secured a tenured position at the law school of your choice shortly after turning 31.
Now, you were 32, still in your first year as a full-time professor. The lecture you gave once a week was on the History of Evidence. It had been amusing the first couple years at the wide-eyed gazes you often came across during your years of assistant teaching, a majority of them finding it unbelievable that someone as young as you would be teaching them—after all, a handful of the students were only a few years younger than you. But now you had grown used to the stares, & made it a point to either ignore them or address them head-on.
Your most challenging student in your first year was a young man named Andrew Barber. He was in his 20’s & often sat as near to your lecture podium as possible. You had grown curious about the student & looked him up in the school system only to find that he had no reason to be taking your class. He was in his final year of law school & was due to graduate at the end of the year. Your lecture was only worth 2 credits & was often taken by first year law students. Of course, the lecture was open to any students, but most got the historical aspects of law over with in their first year. But not Mr. Barber.
Today, he sat in his usual seat near your podium as you gracefully crossed the front of the room, your eyes moving from the PowerPoint back to your students as you spoke. You often felt his eyes on you during your lectures, & found yourself being held after class by his questions & sometimes, his challenges to test your credibility. At the beginning of the term, it had been entertaining, to say the least, though you never showed it, but now with the term nearly over & Mr. Barber due to graduate in only a few weeks’ time, you looked forward to not having him in your class any longer.
“As you prepare for your final papers, I urge you to reflect on the progression & philosophical underpinnings of evidence itself. Whether you choose to focus on trial by ordeal, the complexities of trial by jury, spectral evidence, or the modern implications of polygraph statistics & anonymous sources, remember that each form of proof carries with it both strengths & vulnerabilities.”
It was common knowledge that when students signed up for your class there would be no formal exam but a final paper, so you didn’t understand the few groans of misery at your announcement. You had been a law student yourself once, sure, but you enjoyed your academics & honestly, you believed that no one should pursue law if they were going to bitch about it.
“Your papers should be no less than 25 pages, exploring a topic of your choice from the list provided earlier this term.” You approached your laptop & closed down the PowerPoint before using your mini remote to retract the overhead panel. “You must critically engage with the historical context & modern applications of your chosen form of evidence. Be prepared to defend your analysis as I’ll be meeting individually with each of you before the final due date to discuss your progress.”
Closing your laptop, you rested your forearms along the edges of the podium as your eyes met with those that were willing to engage with you, “Don’t forget to double-check citations & include at least three primary sources. Misattribution, as you all should know, can be just as damning in academia as it is in the courtroom.”
You paused, glancing around the room as a few nervous eyes shifted away, “Any questions before I let you go?”
When no one had any, you gave a small, professional smile, “Enjoy the rest of your week & I’ll see you all next Tuesday at our usual time.”
With that, your students began to gather their things & talk amongst themselves. Of course, you heard a few speak under their breath about the weight of your paper. You ignored such talk, knowing full well that while your class was only 2 credits, they needed to do well on the paper to pass. Otherwise, they would be back in here for their second year.
You slipped your laptop under your arm & approached the nearby desk to pull out your fashionable briefcase. It wasn’t that you were much of a fashionable person yourself, but throughout your years of pursuing law you made it a point that you were a woman. The youngest woman at that. It was important for you to dress professionally but also femininely, unlike a lot of your female predecessors before you who often wore their pantsuits to dress like their male counterparts.
Today, you wore an outfit that was both clean & serious yet young & simple. You once wrote an essay that was published by your alma mater about how more women in the field should embrace feminine attire in their careers, allowing women to redefine professional expectations on their own terms, ultimately strengthening their authority in the courtroom. It had received many reviews & you were pleased to see a few other women take after you & begin leaving the pantsuits at home.
You had nearly gathered all your things to head back to your office on campus when you felt the presence of another sidle up to the desk you stood at.
“Mr. Barber,” You began, not even bothering to confirm it was him, “may I help you?”
He chuckled lightly at that, resting one of his legs on the corner of the desk as he sat his bottom on the edge of it.
“Are you going to the Trials & Tastes luncheon?”
Ah, yes. The fundraiser. You wouldn’t have forgotten about it, but you were not much looking forward to small-talk & forced niceties, though the benefits & proceeds of the fundraiser would go to a respectable program.
“I will be.” You revealed, your tone clipped & distant.
“Good, I was hoping you would say so.”
If you didn’t know any better, you would think the young man had developed a crush on you, but after your many debates in class—in front of his peers, no less—you knew Mr. Barber simply enjoyed challenging you, like most men did, to shake your foundation.
You said nothing in return & grabbed the handle of your case, preparing to leave. As you reached the door to your classroom, all of your students having escaped to their short-lived freedom, you were greeted yet again by the young man as he beat you to the door & held it open for you.
“Thank you.”
Unfortunately, Mr. Barber followed you out & walked alongside you as you navigated through the hallways to the stairwell.
“I saw your name on the roster for the panel but seeing as you often avoid events, I wasn’t sure how accurate it was.”
“Mr. Barber, may I remind you that paying such close attention to one of your professors is reasonably suspicious?”
“What can I say,” He shrugged, & you caught a peek as he grinned down at you, “I admire a woman in power.”
It was not sexual harassment, it wasn’t even harassment, but given the status of your position as well as his, it was pushing the boundaries only slightly. But you took it as a compliment, though you likely knew it was far from one. He often tried to humiliate you but had yet to succeed. After all, you were a lawyer. Very few things could scare you.
“Professor Connors is also speaking at the luncheon, have you expressed your admiration for her as well?” You challenged.
Mr. Barber made a playful sound of disgust, “No way in hell. She ripped apart my mock trial my second year. The last thing I feel towards her is admiration.”
“I see.” You had reached the top of the stairwell & turned to face your student, “So a woman in power is not what you truly meant, otherwise you would’ve respected her opinion.”
“Except her opinion was bullshit.” He quickly countered, his eyes gazing deep into your own.
“Fortunately, Mr. Barber, a lawyer’s opinion matters rarely in their cases. It’s all about—”
“Evidence, I know.” He finished for you, “I may not look like I’m retaining anything you say in class but I keep every single word that leaves your mouth locked away in here.” He tapped on his temple.
“Well, I must be going now. It’s getting late.”
You turned away from him, not caring to continue the conversation given that it was shortly after 8 in the evening & you still had to work to do in your office before heading home.
“I’ll walk with you.” He shared, quickly following you down the steps as he did.
“Don’t you have other matters of more importance to get to, Mr. Barber, than following around your professor like a lost pup?”
He chuckled once more before beating you to the double doors at the front of the building to hold them open for you yet again.
“You know, you’re kind of funny when you want to be.” His compliment was taken with a grain of salt. You knew he was making fun of you internally. They always did.
You stopped abruptly, narrowing your eyes at the young man, “Your persistence may be welcome elsewhere, but it is not welcomed here. Class is over. My office hours are done for the day. I have work to do & you have a paper to write.”
He cocked his head knowingly at you, “You & I both know well enough I don’t need to pass your class to graduate. I took it for fun.”
“Fun?” Now, that was an insult. And he damn well knew it.
“What is the significance of the Brady rule?” You shot out.
Mr. Barber was caught off guard by your question, but wasn’t quick enough to answer, though he did look foolish as he opened his mouth to counter you.
“What is the ‘fruit of the poisonous tree’ doctrine, & why is it critical to the Fourth Amendment?”
“Well, hold on a minute—”
“How do standards of proof differ in criminal versus civil trials?”
“Now, that one’s easy—”
“In a federal criminal trial, under what specific circumstances can the prosecutor introduce a defendant’s prior bad acts as evidence, despite the general prohibition against character evidence under Federal Rule of Evidence 404b?”
His gaze darkened as you stood their pridefully. When he said nothing, it was then your turn to muster an unimpressed chuckle.
“Are you having fun now, Mr. Barber?”
The young man scoffed before pressing his lips together.
“Good. And now that I’ve made my point, I expect your paper to be highly researched with a damning analysis that makes your presence in my class all term worthwhile.”
When he said nothing, you nodded once, “Have a good night, oh, & more importantly, have fun.”
With that, you spun on your heel & began walking through the courtyard to your building across the way. You listened as Mr. Barber’s footfalls carried himself in the opposite direction. While he may not have enjoyed the lesson just then, you certainly couldn’t deny that you yourself were now having fun.
The luncheon was exhausting. You enjoyed most of your colleagues & considered one or two of them decent friends, but otherwise you loathed social events. If the head of your department hadn’t approached you to ask you to speak at the luncheon, you likely wouldn’t have even attended, but you never turned down an opportunity to speak to the masses & have your voice heard.
The panel was brief but impactful. You & a few others spoke on the importance of community, justice, & the power of philanthropy. Afterwards, the main event began & you kept yourself busy by going to different stations to sample the wine & spirits & food pairings, all of which, of course, were named after famous trials.
The dress code for the luncheon was business casual. The outfit you wore was fitting for the event &, of course, feminine. Though it was the middle of May & the event was taking place on the third floor terrace, the blazer you wore was lightweight & didn’t make you overheat under the Massachusetts sun.
After gathering a small plate of finger food, you sat at an empty table near the edge of the terrace that overlooked the campus courtyard below. Your eyes danced around as you watched faculty, students, & guest speakers alike mingle amongst themselves. You were relieved to be a professor now rather than student, having disliked networking when you were a student & having to impress to succeed. Those days were over. Now it was your time to be impressed.
But as you picked at your food in silence, & cast your eyes out to the courtyard, you were disgruntled when you heard someone sit down in a chair at your table. As you turned to face the arrival, you had expected either a colleague or the head of your department, but what you didn’t expect was your pain in the ass student, Mr. Barber. But, of course, you should have known better.
“Mr. Barber.” Your appetite dissipated at the sight of your ornery student.
“Just spoke with your assistant, emailed her my paper for you to review before our one-on-one.”
“Excellent. I look forward to it.” You replied coolly & dismissively.
“I have an answer to your question.” He then revealed. He was not all smiles & playful chuckling as he usually was.
“That is…?”
“Federal Rule of Evidence 404b allows evidence of a person’s character to be admitted if it is offered for a purpose other than proving character.”
“Such as?”
“Motive, opportunity, intent, knowledge, you name it.”
“Name a trial where Rule 404b was successfully used.”
Mr. Barber grinned, “Gacy. It proved motive & intent & a pattern of behavior.”
You opened your mouth to test his knowledge further when he answered the question you were already preparing to ask.
“And yes, it passed Rule 403’s balancing test. They found that the relevance of the evidence outweighed the risk of unfair prejudice.”
A smirk tugged on the corner of your mouth but you snuffed it out, not wanting to give your student the satisfaction of actually impressing you for once.
“Good, Mr. Barber, I now know you can research.”
“My paper will prove that, too.”
“And I look forward to discussing it with you.”
Silence fell between the two of you & you sat comfortably in your chair, unperturbed by the young man’s unwavering gaze.
“You’re impressed.” He finally said, his tone filled with finality.
You quirked a single brow, “Is that so?”
“You’re too prideful to admit it, but I know.”
“Without my confirmation, I suppose you’ll have to make do with just your belief. And we both know how little belief gets one in a court of law.”
“This isn’t a courtroom.” He rebutted.
“Perhaps.” You grabbed your nearby glass of wine & took a sip, “But it is life.”
Again, that darkened gaze from earlier in the week appeared. Mr. Barber then leaned forward, lowering his voice, “You may be hard to impress, but you’re not impossible to break.”
Your mouth went dry at his words, & you jumped slightly when you felt the heat of his palm capture the flesh just above your knee under the table.
“Even the sharpest minds have their faults.” His eyes met yours, “It just takes the right pressure.”
As if to drive his point home, he squeezed your thigh harshly, & you made to shove his hand off. But before you could, he stood up & grinned down at you, “Thank you for your insight, Professor _____. I’ll see you in our one-on-one.”
A spell of dizziness fell over you & you vaguely remembered Mr. Barber departing your table. You paid no attention to where he went, but his words stayed with you. The heat of his palm could still be felt on your thigh & you rubbed absent-mindedly at the space.
In all your years of working hard, surpassing expectations, & even competing against a thousand others in one of the most competitive fields in the world, never left you feeling the way your student just had.
It was a threat, that much was clear, but what kind of threat you were unsure of.
The rest of the term came & went without issue & you never saw Andrew Barber, not since the luncheon. At first, it had unsettled you. After all, his subtle threat remained with you the first few days. But when he quit coming to your lecture & never arrived for his one-on-one, you eventually pushed any thoughts of him to the back of your mind.
His paper, like most students in your class, was well-researched & the analysis was crisp. For once, you had not planned on debating him, now wary of him. But it wasn’t the first time you had been threatened by a man in your field of work, however, it was the first time a student had.
Nonetheless, you graded his paper accordingly & Mr. Barber passed the class with the highest marks. You expected to hear from once grades were released but still nothing. It kept you on edge but at the same time, you were relieved to never have to deal with him again.
Classes had ended earlier that week but you still had grades to enter into the system & class notes to provide to your head. The last week of school was also often followed by student reviews. Every faculty member that taught a class was to be reviewed by their students, a way to make note of progress for department heads. As it was your first year as a tenured professor, you were curious as to what your students would say.
You had been in your office all day, busying yourself with tasks you needed to complete before the summer break. Of course, work never ended for you. During the summer you would be leading a mentoring program to students who wanted to take the fast track to graduating early. But that wouldn’t be for another week or so. You would only have a few days to yourself before you would report back to work, so you were eager that night to finish as efficiently as possible & get home.
Your assistant had left only a few hours ago, she was graduating as well, & had left you with no goodbye. All year she had been an excellent assistant & you appreciated all her hard work. You had planned on sharing with her that you would write her a letter of recommendation if she requested one before she left for the evening but you never had a chance. She had signaled her exit by slamming the door shut. It was strange & unlike her, but you figured perhaps she was having a bad night. You would email her in the morning.
There was maybe twenty minutes of work left when a knock sounded in the distance. Frowning, you eyed the clock on the wall. It was nearly 11 at night. Standing up from your desk, you rounded to the door & peeked out into your waiting room. The desk that your assistant usually sat at was empty & clear of any personal items. But perhaps she had indeed forgotten something.
Your heels clacked & the dress you wore brushed against your calves as you approached the frosted glass door to your office.
You immediately froze where you stood as your eyes landed on those of another, one you hadn’t seen in the last few weeks.
“Mr. Barber.”
“Professor.” He greeted, but his tone was clipped, much like how yours typically was.
“What are you—”
“I missed our one-on-one, I was hoping we could reschedule for right now.”
You felt your brows crinkle, “Mr. Barber, grades have been posted, your paper along with it. You passed the class with full marks. The one-on-one is redundant at this point.”
“I understand.” He nodded once but made no effort to move from where he stood, “I still would like your thoughts on it.”
You inhaled sharply, straightening your spine as you peered up at him, “Unfortunately, that opportunity has passed. My office hours are closed. I’m about to head home. In the fall, if you’d like to schedule an appointment with me, I’d be more than happy to discuss it then.”
“I think now is a good time.”
A small gasp escaped you as the young man welcomed himself into your office, his broad chest easily knocking you out of the way as he entered.
“Mr. Barber—”
“It’s Andy.” He cut you off, his eyes finding yours, “I’m no longer your student, Professor _____. Or I should say _____, since we’re on first names now.”
Annoyance bubbled within you as you stared openly at him, “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
You watched as your now former student eyed the space before approaching your recently graduated assistant. His fingers danced along the desk, a small smile gracing his lips.
“You know much about your assistant?”
“Miss. Parker?” What the hell was he getting at?
“Of course you call her that.” He chuckled darkly, before turning around to face you, resting his bottom on the edge of the desk. “I call her Melissa. Or ‘slut’, she likes that a lot when I fuck her.”
Your eyes widened at the sudden breach of information.
“We fucked here a lot, ya know.” He revealed, a devilish smile on his face, “Had to wait till you went home, which I gotta say, Prof, you sure are a workaholic.”
“Excuse me?” You were seething. “I think it’s time you leave. Right now. Before I call campus security.”
He laughed then exhaled heavily, his eyes dancing from the toes of your heels to the top of your head, “Go ahead, but you’ll only implicate yourself if you do.”
“What are you talking about?” Your voice began to rise, “Get the hell out of my office!”
“Melissa isn’t very bright.” He began, ignoring your demands for him to leave, “Very eager to please. I’m actually surprised you accepted her application to be your assistant for the year. I thought you wanted to mentor ‘strong’ women. She’s very… submissive. You really should’ve picked a man, that would’ve made it harder for me to set you up.”
Your heart was beating wildly within your chest as you watched him.
When he glanced at you he laughed openly, “You should see the look on your face. Priceless.”
“Mr. Barber—”
“Andy.” He clicked his tongue at you, winking once. He approached you then & you took a step back, bumping into one of the leather chairs. An unsettling smile split his face as he bypassed you to your office door, swinging it close before locking it.
“What are you—”
“Let’s go into your office.” He gestured with his arm for you to enter the room behind the assistant’s desk.
“Andy—”
“Now.” The smile dropped from his face, “Before I get really mad.”
Biting your tongue, you marched into your face, heading straight for your cellphone buried in your bag. But just as you grasped the bag sitting on the floor by your desk, Andy appeared beside you, ripping the device from your hands before throwing it into the waiting room & slamming the door.
“We won’t need that.” He shared, his chest just barely brushing against your upper arm.
“Whatever it is that’s bothering you—”
He chuckled, shaking his head. Then his hands found your arms & turned you to face him, “You bother me.”
“So, what? You’re angry because I didn’t fall for your attempts to humiliate me in front of my students? You’re upset because I accepted your challenges? Because you haven’t defeated me? Tell me what the hell this is about!”
His lips parted as you spit your frustrations at him, glaring hotly into his eyes.
“I was a student in Duran’s class my first year. You were his associate teacher.” Andy revealed. You recalled working under Professor Duran, one of your least favorite years in your career. He was often drunk & smelled like a skunk. He also never learned to keep his hands to himself.
“I was younger than, easily impressed & excited about law. Duran had a long history of being one of the best professors at this school & yet he was rarely around to teach. That was up to you. You picked up his slack, taught us in areas that should’ve been well beyond your years. But you did it gracefully, intelligently. Didn’t look a day over 20 & had the brains to outsmart more than half the faculty.”
As he spoke, his hands moved from your arms to your waist. You immediately made to move out of his grasp but his hold tightened, keeping you in place.
“And then came that eventful day. I know I don’t need to remind you.”
It was true. He didn’t.
Duran had come to class in the middle of your teaching, stumbling into the class before falling in front of everyone. He had approached you, slurring & reeking of whatever bottle he crawled into. He shoved you off the podium & made blatant sexist remarks. At the time, you knew it was because you had rejected his advances for the umpteenth time & threatened to report him. Then he came to class & verbally assaulted you with nearly a hundred witnesses. He was removed from the school effective immediately & you were given the chance to teach the class rest of term.
“I told you,” Andy’s fingers played with the fine fabric of your dress, “I love a woman in power. The way you called him out in front of his students, mocked his legacy, & held your ground. Fuck!”
Andy leaned in, his nose brushing against the shell of your ear, “I’d never been so hard in my life.”
You shook, attempting to pull yourself out of his grasp but he forced you back, catching the back of your head with his other hand as he peered down at you with a heated gaze, “I’ve wanted you ever since. It’s why I took your class my last term. I thought you’d appreciate my challenges, be impressed, see a bit of yourself in me, view me as a respectable adversary. I thought we could be friends, if not more.”
A groan of disgust sounded from you as you turned away from him.
“But no.” His hand at the back of your head gathered your hair & wrapped it around his fist, forcing a hiss through your teeth, “Your pride, that goddamn fucking pride of yours. What more do you need to prove? You’re the youngest success story in your field. Shouldn’t you oughta relax once in a while? Or are you scared of losing your crown?”
“Let. Go.” You winced, trying to make your voice as hard & even as possible.
Andy laughed lightly, biting his lower lip as he stared openly at your face, “No, no. I’ve worked too hard to get you right where I want you.”
“Where’s that?” You glared up at him, practically balancing your weight on your toes as he had you lifted almost by your hair, forcing your face closer to his.
“At my mercy.”
Then, before you could protest, he caught your mouth with his, smothering you in a suffocating kiss. You whined into it, attempting to shove him off you, but he was quick to secure his other arm around your waist, lifting you effortlessly before placing you down on your desk, his hips placed expertly between your knees.
“No!” You managed to turn your face away, your hands & fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt, trying to push him away from you.
“You really have no choice, Professor.” He spoke, his breath fanning your face, “You deny me, I’ll have you removed from the faculty just like you did to Duran, & I’ll still have my way with you.”
At that you froze. Slowly, you blinked, peeking at him confused. “What do you mean?”
Andy produced a winner’s smile, “I’m talking about all the evidence I fabricated that implicates you in an on-going sexual relationship with one of your students: me.”
Your heart fell to your stomach, “What—why, did—what are you talking about?”
“The way your chest is heaving right now is making it really hard to control myself.” Andy commented, his eyes falling to the opening of your dress near the top.
“Andy!” You spoke harshly, “What are you talking about?”
His eyes met your own, “Melissa. Or Miss Parker, as you say. Like I said, she isn’t very bright. Likes to leave her laptop unattended while she sleeps, doesn’t even password protect.”
Where he was going was conjuring a nauseous feeling within you.
“Your email.” Andy brushed his lips against your cheek, “There’s a whole slew of emails between you & I. Intimate ones. Ones with scheduled ‘one-on-one’s’ at your home. In your office. I even had to break up with Melissa for you. She knows everything.”
“You…”
He grinned, nodding, “I pretended to be you wanting to fuck me, yes. And it’s all backed up. You can go through your email & delete them all you like but I have all the evidence on a drive in my apartment. Along with a few articles of your clothing, some of your DNA in my bed. The proof’s all there if you want to go to that extent.”
You stared at him wide-eyed, “How did you…?”
“Melissa also has a key to your home, does she not? In case you leave an important lesson plan behind or need her to pick something up on the weekends. You sure worked her hard.”
“But she…”
“Hates your guts. Even more now that she knows the truth about us.”
You glared at him, angry tears breaching.
“Why?”
Andy breathed out, his hands going for the top of your dress, “Because… you. I wanted you, & I always get what I want.”
You remained still as he slipped the dress of your shoulders, exposing your bra-clad breasts to him.
“This isn’t exactly how I imagined it going. Like I said, I thought you’d like me. So, I had to take a different route, & this one, at the end of the day, is a route I know you’d respect.” Andy caught your chin, forcing you to look at him, “It’s like you always say. It’s all about evidence.”
You said nothing, could say nothing.
Then, much to your relief, he backed up, allowing you a moment of space to breath. But it was short-lived as he stared at you.
“Take your dress off.”
Your eyes flashed to his.
“No.”
He cocked his head at that, an audacious look of surprise on his face.
“Now. Or I’ll tear it to shreds.”
“Do it.” You challenged, “Just more evidence for me.”
Andy chuckled darkly at that, his eyes narrowing, “That really the route you want to go? I’m not your only threat anymore. Let’s not forget about Melissa. She could ruin your life as much as I could. It’s two against one.”
“She’s smarter than you give her credit for.”
“She really isn’t.” He countered.
Silence lasted a beat before he spoke once more.
“You really want to do this the hard way?”
“You attack me right now & I’ll have all the evidence. The first thing I’ll do is report it, then have a rape kit performed. I’ll see you in court at the end of the month. You won’t even make it to your bar exams.”
He glared, his face distorting to one of pure rage.
“Didn’t think everything through, now did you?”
“All the rape kit will prove is that there was intercourse. Everything else? A matter of ‘he said, she said’. And we both know how those often go. Really prepared to risk your career, credibility, position at this school for a case you will surely lose?”
“Are you?” You threw back. “If you know anything about me, Mr. Barber, it’s that I don’t go down without a fight. So, give it your best shot.”
Andy stilled for a moment, your eyes peering into one another. But then he smiled. A real one.
“You should read the most recent email you sent me, Professor. Before you go & get all high & mighty.”
At that you frowned.
“What did you do?”
He gestured to your laptop, “See for yourself.”
Never letting your eyes fall from his, you slipped off the desk, uncaring to readjust your dress as you circled around to your chair. Your email was already open in another tab.
“Where are you hiding them?”
“Archives. Under ‘AB’.”
Following his instructions, you found the folder & clicked on the first email. The subject line read ‘Tonight—My Office’.
A shudder ran through you as you read the email. It was brief but damning.
Andy,
Tonight’s the night. I want you to come to my office & do what I’ve been begging you to do. Reference the links I sent you. It’s time to celebrate you no longer being my student. We are free to do as we please. Finally. I’ll see you at 11. I’ll be waiting.
Yours, _____
P.S. Bring my favorite tie.
And then an attached file. A link to a website about different kinds of BDSM. The specific one in the link referred to ‘rape play’.
“You…” Words failed you as your vision began to blur. Another spell of dizziness cast over you.
You clocked the time the email was sent. Around 7 p.m. But you had been in your office all day.
“When you went to get coffee.” Andy revealed, having read your mind, “I’m sure you noticed when you returned that Melissa was absent from her desk. She was busy crying in the bathroom. I had come up here & broke up with her, telling her everything, and showed her the emails from her laptop. Then she ran out, tears running down her face. Allowed me to send myself one last email. Quick but effective.”
You shook your head in denial, “They’ll trace the email having been sent from her laptop.”
“But of course.” Andy chuckled knowingly, “A law professor specializing in evidence would know to send the email from a separate IP address, should she of course want to accuse her partner of sexual assault.”
Your heart was racing. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be.
“It’s all…” Andy approached the desk, cupping your cheek to force you to look up at him, “Say it with me now, it’s all…”
“Circumstantial.” You both said in unison, though your voice was barely audible.
“And it’s all about the evidence.” Andy repeated.
Tears finally escaped & you felt unable to move.
“Seeing me in court sounds like a waste of time now, doesn’t it?”
Andy circled the desk & spun your chair around before kneeling on one knee before you, his palm finding the same spot it rested on before at the luncheon.
“I win.” He breathed, a gruesome smile on his face, “Finally.”
When you continued to say nothing, only staring past his shoulder, you saw him reach into his back pocket, pulling out a piece of fabric.
“Your favorite tie.” He revealed half-heartedly, as if the relationship he fabricated between the two of you was real.
It had been his plan all along, after all.
“Stand up.” He ordered, remaining on his knee.
When you refused to move, he gripped a single calf & squeezed, “I don’t mind getting rough, Professor. I’m only giving you a chance to make this as easy as possible.”
Eyeing him, you felt a shaky breath escape you.
“Don’t.” You felt your strength lessen. Would you really be forced into begging? The you from ten minutes ago would never.
“You can’t stop it.” Andy cooed, peering almost solemnly up at you, “If it makes you feel any better, you’ll never see me again.”
You felt your brows crinkle at that.
“We’ll break up.” He shared, tracing a single finger along the muscle in your calf, “I just want a goodbye fuck. Can’t risk continuing a relationship with you. You’re too smart. You’d probably mic your office or set up a nanny-cam.” He joked lightly as if you two were friends.
“Give me what I want, & I’ll disappear forever.” He breathed out, catching your eyes. They started out soft but soon enough hardened.
“Now stand up & remove your fucking dress.”
As you weighed the pros & cons internally, you found yourself adhering to his demands. You stood up, your legs shaking slightly from what was to come.
As you did, Andy watched every move, every muscle twitch, every change in breathing pattern. He was feeling powerful. And you loathed that you could do absolutely nothing. What would fighting back do? The end result would still be the same. And the evidence had set up. Your whole career, your name, reputation, fucking ruined. All you had to do… was let him fuck you.
His hand grabbed the back of your legs as he leaned forward. You braced a single hand on the edge of your desk to stabilize yourself as he pressed his face between your thighs. You heard him inhale deeply.
“You smell as good as you look.” He uttered, his lips kissing the tender skin of your inner thighs.
You gasped softly, more tears escaping & you hated yourself. For crying, for not fighting back, for losing.
His hands grew bolder, reaching up to cup the cheeks of your ass, molding them to fit his palms. You bit your lip, attempting to stifle the cries that threatened to escape. It was bad enough that he had won, it would be worse if he heard you cry about it.
You then felt his nose brush against the front of your pubic bone & instinctually, you brought your hands down on top of his head, attempting to push him off. He was quick to capture both of your wrists, coming out from between your thighs to gaze up at you, a look of warning on his face.
It was enough for your arms to go limp. Andy offered a small smile before he rose to his full height.
“Been a long time for you hasn’t it, Prof?” He alluded, but to what you didn’t know.
He reached around your waist to the button that secured your dress. It slipped down until it crumpled into a pile at your feet.
“I think the last one was that guest speaker at the gala last year, right?”
Oh.
“You certainly made him work hard for it.”
“How do—” You frowned as he cut you off with a kiss.
“I’ve been watching you a long time.” He said, his deep blue eyes boring into yours.
Before you could say another word, he spun you around so you were facing your desk, manipulating your body to bend you over until your ass was on full display. Goosebumps erupted behind every stroke of his hand as he felt your body from your upper back to the cheeks of your butt.
“I can’t begin to tell you what a superb going away gift this is.” He shared lowly from behind you.
Then you felt his hands expertly unclasp your bra & it fell down your arms. He gathered you up in his arms, pressing your back against his solid chest as he peeked down at you over your shoulder. Your body continued to shake no matter how much effort you put into not shaking.
Andy was slow & sensual, & you wished he would just get it over with.
His hands cupped either tit in his palms, groaning softly in your ear. You felt as he ground his hips into your backside, his erection apparent. You pressed your lips together to keep from sounding out your cries.
Just get it over with & leave me be. You begged internally.
Just then, he grasped the underside of your chin, angling your face upwards at a near painful angle. He stared down at you, his gaze hooded & full of lust. No words were said but you saw in his eyes how he had been planning this for ages, & now he was finally going to get what he wanted. You only wish it wasn’t your defeat.
The hand not holding your neck slipped down your front until it reaching the lining of your underwear. Your fingers grasped the edge of the desk, bracing yourself for the worst part to begin.
His fingers slipped inside & he was quick to find your bundle of nerves. A pitiful moan of protest parted your lips but you were swift to bit you lip, your teeth sinking into the flesh there. Andy smiled momentarily but he watched as your face contorted, attempting to fight off the sensations, to ignore them. But luck was not on your side. Your body responded to his touch & you hated yourself. Hated him.
“There she is.” He growled lowly as your stomach began to knot. His fingers worked harder, faster in circles. Then right before you were to orgasm, he slipped further down & inserted a single finger into your cunt.
You hissed, unknowingly gyrating your hips against his own as he stretched you around his finger. He pumped slowly at first, enjoying watching you come undone. Your eyes were squeezed shut, one of your hands hanging onto his forearm that continued to hold your neck in his grasp.
Something wet touched your ear & a regretful pleasant sensation flooded through you as he licked & nipped at your lobe. A soft cry escaped you as you felt the walls of your pussy contract & shudder, your orgasm ripping through you. Andy released a satisfying breath of air as he let you go. You collapsed on top of your desk, your lower half shaking as the waves of your orgasm still rocked through you.
Behind you, you heard the distinct sound of a belt clinking, coming undone.
Suddenly, everything you had worked for flashed before your eyes. You hadn’t put up with years & years of hard work & sexist bullshit to succumb to this. In the corner of your eye, you spotted a letter opener, a gift from your mentor when you had been practicing law your first year after Harvard. It glinted in the lamp light.
Before Andy could understand what was happening, you quickly snatched the small weapon in your hand & spun around, aiming for the closest fleshiest part of him. But he was quick to jump back. You had still nicked him, the sleeve of his shirt cut with some blood but it wasn’t enough.
Andy glared angrily at you as he peered down at the flesh wound.
You held the letter opener up in defense, bracing yourself for him to attack.
A snarl appeared on his face, “Fine. I like it rough anyways.”
He took a single step forward & you swung your arm, hoping to catch him with the weapon once more but he was stronger, faster. He quickly snatched your wrist in his hand & bent it an ungodly painful angle until you were forced to drop the opener.
You whined openly, tears falling once more but these ones were angry.
But just as you made to kick out at him, he swiped the back of his hand across your face & you fell against your desk before falling to the floor. Your cheek throbbed in pain but it was short-lived as he reached down & yanked you up by your throat. You beat against his forearm but your strength was nothing compared to his.
“Fuck you!” You wheezed, your verbal assault coming out as a choke.
“I plan to.” He gritted out before spinning you around & slamming your upper body on top of your desk.
Andy was no longer slow & sensual. His movement was rushed, harsh, & violent. You blindly reached out once more in search of anything on your desk you could use to attack him, but he easily secured you against the desk with his hips before yanking your arms backwards & tying your wrists together with a piece a fabric—probably his tie.
As soon as he let go of your arms, you tested the durability of the knot & it proved to be tight & inescapable. Andy huffed behind you, his breathing hot & angry.
The underwear you wore was quickly torn from your body, the seams stinging against your skin as they strained before snapping off. You attempted to lift yourself up with just your shoulders but he was quick to slam one of his arms on your back, trapping you there. In a last ditch effort to escape you screamed as loudly as you could.
Your scream was hoarse & not as loud as you would’ve liked but short-lived. Andy was quick to shove your underwear in your mouth before leaning forward, his mouth at your ear, “Careful, Professor, your job is on the line.”
You hated him. Deep down you thought you always had. But now you truly & irrevocably hated that man, that monster.
You heard Andy spit before feeling something hot & hard at your entrance.
Squeezing your eyes shut, whimpering into the fabric of your underwear, you braced yourself for what was to come.
He entered you hard & far from gentle. A pained grunt sounded from behind the fabric in your mouth & more tears fell from your eyes, coating the hardwood your face was pressed against. Andy groaned out loud, stilling as he felt you slowly stretch & fit around him.
You had not seen his size but you could clearly fill it & he did not lack in that department. You had wished he had been smaller, something to use against him psychologically, but what would it have mattered? He was raping you, just like he planned. He was winning, & you were the very sore loser.
Not a moment later he began to thrust, his hands finding either side of your hips as his nails dug into your skin. The desk jostled beneath you as his movements were erratic & forced. Your pussy burned & ached as he fucked you relentlessly within your own office. You angled your head to peer out ahead of you, finding anything to focus your attention on, to remove yourself mentally from this moment. But the pain & discomfort was too great.
You then felt one of his hands grasp the back of your head, tangling your hair in his fingers. A whine sounded but it was muffled as he practically broke your neck to raise your head so he could leave hot, sloppy kisses along your jawline.
“You feel as amazing as I thought you would, Professor.” He gasped, his hips bruising against your backside, “No more nights of jerking off or fucking Melissa pretending she was you. Now I can lock this memory away forever.”
His words disgusted you & you felt bile rise in your throat. You feared throwing up while fabric was stuffed in your mouth. Would Andy care? Would he allow it to go so far as to let you choke on your own puke, suffocating you? Considering how far he went to get you in this position you decided that yes, yes he would.
Fortunately, you could feel as his cock began to swell inside you. His thrusts began to grow choppy & his moans of pleasure grew louder. He had let go of your head at this point & you rested your forehead against your desk, willing it to be over any minute.
But the moment you thought to yourself it would be over, you felt his fingers find your clit once more. Panic soared through you as you understood what he was attempting to do to you. Again.
Immediately, you began to wrestle out from under him, or at least make it almost impossible for him to reach you there. But he only lifted you up higher, moving your hips onto the desk so he could easily access your most sacred part.
A bout of pleasure shot up your spine & you felt your muscles tense.
“No, no!” You tried to say but the underwear in your mouth muffled your pleas. Not again, please, not again.
But Andy, of course, ignored your wants.
He hissed as he continued to fuck you, his fingers working their godforsaken magic. Just as you felt your stomach begin to knot once more, he suddenly retracted himself from you before quickly spinning you around.
Your arms ached as your nearly entire body weight rested on them. And horror flooded you as you watched through tearful eyes Andy fall to his knees to latch his mouth onto your cunt. His tongue swiped you & his fingers filled you & your thighs shook around his head. A cry erupted from behind the fabric & you came hard. Your juices soaked his face as he lapped up every drop, savoring the taste of you on his tongue.
Your body was coated in a fine layer of sweat & the cool air in the room made your skin erupt in goosebumps. As your orgasm subsided though, your nightmare was not yet over.
Andy was quick to tug you forward until you were forced onto your knees. Then he grasped the hair at the back of your head once more. His cock bobbed in front of your face as he pumped himself, his eyes staring into your own. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing it to be over, begging for it to be over.
And then you felt hot threads of semen coat your face. Andy groaned loudly, almost growling as he came. You winced as his hold on your hair tightened, feeling a few strands of hair pop.
When he finally finished, he stumbled backwards, bracing himself against the wall behind him as his own orgasm subsided.
You remained where you kneeled, your tears mixing with his cum.
A few seconds later, you felt him cup your cheek, demanding you to open your eyes. When you did they stung only a little bit, some of the semen having slipped in.
But just as you opened your eyes, a camera flash went off. Andy had his phone out & had taken a picture of you covered in his cum.
“For later.” He revealed nonchalantly.
More tears cascaded down your face & he ultimately pulled your underwear from your mouth before pocketing them in his own pants.
He pulled on one of your arms forcing you to stand before he shoved you to sit in your chair. He picked up your dress off the floor & tossed it into your lap. You tried to catch your breath as he reached behind you to remove the tie from your wrists. They fell limply to your sides.
“See? That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” He joked, catching your chin in one of his large hands.
You glared up at him but said nothing.
“It’s not the first time I’ve left a woman speechless.” He grinned, winking down at you.
Andy kneeled once more, rolling your chair closer to him as he gazed sickeningly at you.
“I can’t thank you enough.” He spoke, shaking his head in disbelief, “You were worth the build-up. It’s just a shame it can’t happen again. I think we could’ve had fun.”
He leaned forward, his eyes on your mouth & just before he intended to kiss you once more, you turned your face away.
He chuckled darkly, “That goddamn pride.” He said more to himself than you.
The next time he forced you to kiss him, holding your face in place as you assaulted your mouth one last time.
When he pulled away, he gently knocked your chin with his knuckles, “I told you, it just takes the right pressure to break someone like you.”
With that, he rose to his full height, eyeing you once more before he circled around your desk, “Well, Prof, I gotta be going now. Got big things planned. Try not to miss me.”
You watched in the corner of your eyes as he exited you office closing the door behind him. You waited until you heard the secondary door close in your waiting room before you finally broke down. Sobs erupted from you as you held your head in your hands. You couldn’t even fathom looking down at yourself, only imagining how vile you looked.
A ding sounded on your laptop then & you rose your head defeatedly.
An email notification. From Andrew Barber.
Your stomach knotted as you clicked it open. All the email contained was a single attached file image of your face. With Andy’s cum all over it.
Then came another email.
Missing you already.
finally got andy on here! love this man to death.
one of my favorite aspects about writing stories like this is researching! i don't do anything half-assed, especially when it comes to my writing. i tried to do my best to make any talk about laws or anything sound as realistic as possible with the research i had done so if any law buffs or law educated folk out there wanna give me some feedback i'd greatly appreciate it.
as always, please share your thoughts with me via dropping an ask in the ask box, commenting, or reblogging with reviews.
i will still be working on updating 'summit' but the next mini series i'll be working on is 'pure//violence' with our favorite bad boy: rafe cameron. so stay stuned!
thank you for reading
oona<3
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[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
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CHAPTER SEVEN | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER NINE
It was an hour before dawn when you scared yourself awake, nearly falling off a loveseat in the sitting room. You rubbed at your eyes but glanced around worriedly. You couldn’t recall the dream, rather nightmare, you were just having, but it left goosebumps caked across your skin. Gathering your sanity, you reached down to touch your ankle that rested on a pillow. You had found some painkillers stashed away after your bath so when you touched your ankle, you felt almost nothing.
You tested the limits of your ankle by standing up. It was still dull & uncomfortable but you could manage walking. You had to.
The storm had passed & glancing out the windows proved that it was calm outside then. You couldn’t waste a moment longer. Ransom could be back at any minute. You needed to have the right questions before you accused him of anything.
Rushing as quickly as possible towards the back, you swung open the back door & half-walked, half-limped to the greenhouse. Your gear was still in there but you’d move it back later. Right now, what you needed to find was a shovel. Fortunately, you found one very quickly & used it as a cane as you began trekking through the forest to find the horrifying discovery you made the previous night.
It took you about fifteen minutes thanks to your swollen ankle, but you eventually found it. Again, once you spotted the exposed bones, you hesitated walking towards it, fearful of what you’d unbury, of who. But you swallowed your discomfort & forced yourself onwards.
The heavy rain had softened the earth so you had little need for the shovel as you dug at the dirt around the finger with your hands. Mud caked your fingers & palms but you kept going, determined to uncover the truth. Bile rose in your throat as you uncovered the space around the finger, surely leading to more fingers, a hand, a wrist, & so on. Part of you questioned whether or not you should keep going. Perhaps you should just leave. Pack your things & go. Ransom will likely search for you, but you could have a head start.
But you couldn’t just leave. You had to know.
Pressing your lips together, you kept on. Your hands & fingers ached but you eventually managed to expose the first face. You brought your hands to your mouth as you stared at the face buried in dirt before you.
It was Meg. You recognized her from the family photos. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but her mouth open, covered in dirt. It had been her finger protruding through the earth. You fell backwards, your thoughts racing.
This was wrong. Everything about it.
Everything Ransom told you… it was a lie?
You knew it had to be as you reasoned with what was before you. Her flesh was still on her bones. That wouldn’t have been the case if she died over a year ago. And her mouth was open… her finger exposed. She had been alive, trying to claw her way out.
Oh, my god. You felt tears prick at your eyes.
Ransom…
You didn’t want to believe it. How could you? But you knew better. This is what your father trained you for years for. The dangers of humanity.
Trying to ignore looking at her face, you continued to uncover the space around her. You switched to the shovel, wanting to move faster. The painkillers were beginning to wear off but you couldn’t stop. Your adrenaline & pursuit of truth was stronger.
The shovel hit against something soft but also dense. It was another body. You fell to your knees & dug quickly at the ground like a starving wolf.
Another face. It was one of the aunt’s.
You finished exposing the rest of the body. She was completely intact.
You recalled what Ransom had said about his aunts & how they died…
‘There was nothing left of Joni & Donna after he got his hands on them. They looked like fish food.’
She wasn’t torn up, but she was murdered. A bullet hole was centered on her forehead.
Unable to contain your disgust, you collapsed sideways of the gravesite & vomited. Little came out, mostly stomach acid, but you kept vomiting. When it had finally subsided, you willed yourself to continue.
You had to have been out there for another hour or so, enough time for the sky to lighten. By the time you finished uncovering the whole truth, you stood above the bodies, staring hopelessly down at them.
The uncles were there, the cousin, Jacob—who Ransom said never made it back to the mansion when they left for Worcester.
A couple of them had decomposed more so than others but they were all still relatively fresh. Meaning they hadn’t been dead long.
And nothing, absolutely nothing that Ransom told you had been the truth.
You had to leave. Now.
Fate worked against you as you found your way back to the estate & ran inside. Your ankle wailed but you pushed yourself as you climbed the stairs to your bedroom on the second floor.
You didn’t want to confront Ransom. There was nothing he could say or do to ever make you trust him again. All you needed to do was get out unscathed, & fast.
But just as you began shoving your things into your backpack, you heard the engine of a truck grow closer to the mansion.
No.
Rushing out of the bedroom, you ran into a spare room across the hall & pressed your face against the window. It was Ransom. In the bed of the truck was a generator. At least that had been true. But no matter, you had to hurry.
Returning back to your room, you zipped up your backpack & spun around to leave. You were still missing a few items but you didn’t care. Your flight instinct had kicked in & you needed to leave immediately.
But just as you made a few steps down the stairs, you spotted Ransom through the window by the front door. He had yet to see you. You attempted to move faster down the stairs, hoping you’d be out of sight before he ever swung the door open, but your ankle croaked in pain & you felt your legs slip out from under you.
Pain erupted through your body as you fell down the stairs, knocking your limbs every which way along the way. Then a hot white flash pierced your mind as you smacked the back of your head on the wooden floor.
Stars blanketed your vision & you groaned, trying to get up, but none of your limbs would work.
You heard the front door open, followed by a concerned voice before Ransom’s face appeared in your line of sight.
He frowned down at you as he reached for you.
You tried to fight him off, mouthing ‘no’ over & over again. But soon your vision darkened & the world you knew disappeared.
When you came to, you winced. But it was muffled & you wriggled your head to wake yourself. As you did, you found yourself sitting at one end of the dining room table. You felt a cloth wrapped your face, covering your mouth. When you made to remove it, you realized your arms had been tied behind you to the chair you sat in.
Glancing down, panic soaring through you, you were horrified to see yourself in another vintage style dress. Your knees were exposed & you noted the bruises on them.
Your memory came rushing back to you as you recalled your last moments. Finding the gravesite, learning the truth about Ransom, trying to escape before slipping down the stairs. But now you were tied up, unable to defend yourself.
Frightened, you began pulling at your restraints but to no vain. They had been secured tightly. Tears pricked at your eyes.
A whistling sounded from the kitchen & you felt your heart nearly stop.
The whistling grew closer & then Ransom appeared in the threshold from the kitchen, carrying two plates of food. His eyes landed on yours & he smiled solemnly.
“Good. You’re awake.” His tone was light but there a coldness to it, a disconnect.
You watched him as he circled around to your end of the table before placing a dish before you.
“Took quite a fall, kiddo.” He shared before sitting down in the chair to the right of you.
“Was gonna let you rest on the couch but then…” He sighed, staring blankly at the wall across from him, “I saw what you did.”
His eyes flashed to yours & there was a darkness lying there.
“Why, _____?” He almost sounded… heartbroken. “Why’d you have to go out there? I specifically told you not to leave the house.”
A dark chuckle sounded from the depths of his chest as he shook his head, “But I should’ve known better. You are just a kid, after all. You don’t listen.”
You struggled against the restraints once more & his eyes peeked a glance at your attempts. He took a sip from a glass of wine before him, sucking his teeth before speaking, “Wouldn’t bother if I were you. Only way you’ll get out of them is if I let you.”
His proclamation made you struggle harder.
He took a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully as you whined behind your lips & felt your skin burning from the ropes. He hummed lightly to himself, likely enjoying your pitiful attempts.
A fit of frustration could be heard behind your muffled covered mouth. Ransom stared at you, his face expressionless.
“I know you’re probably thinking the mouth cover is pointless given your choice to be mute—” Actually, I’m thinking you’re a psychotic. “But it’s meaningful to me. Symbolic, if you will.”
Ransom reached out to brush his knuckles against your cheek & you jolted away. Anger graced his features.
“Ungrateful shit.” He seethed, “Only reason you’re alive is because of me.”
Inhaling deeply, he appeared to calm himself down, his nostrils flaring, before he returned his eyes to yours.
“I’m sure you have questions, & I’m willing to answer them.” He reached out again & this time you were unable to avoid his touch. He grasped your chin harshly, forcing you to face him, “For a price, of course.”
You narrowed your eyes at him in defiance. Whatever it was, you would not do it.
“As always, I only ask for your voice. Want answers? Then ask them.” He squeezed, making you wince, “Properly.”
As he let go, he swiftly tore the covering from your mouth, leaving a wake of stinging pain along your mouth. It had been tape.
“So.” He swirled his glass of wine before leaning back in his chair, “Ask away.”
But you pursed your lips, gathering what little saliva you could conjure up, & spit at him.
Your assault landed directly on his face, right in the crevice of one of his nostrils.
Ransom fluttered his eyes closed, his teeth baring only slightly. He reached for a cloth napkin & wiped at his face before eyeing the spit. Then his eyes flashed to yours.
Before you could brace yourself, he backhanded you. Your cheek erupted with a scorching heat & his assault had hit you so hard your chair had slightly lifted.
A small, quiet gasp escaped you & you tasted blood on your tongue as the corner of your mouth seeped.
He was quick to stabilize your chair before practically shoving his face into yours, “One more time like that & I’ll bury you with the rest of them.”
Then he kicked his own chair out from beneath him. Swiftly, he grabbed his plate of food & threw it across the room. The sound of glass shattering made you jump slightly. Ransom’s chest was heaving before he braced both closed fists on top of the table.
“Great.” He laughed half-heartedly, “Waste of food.”
He stood straight, cracking his neck both ways before his eyes fell to you. You stared up at him wide-eyed.
“We could have been happy.” Ransom fell to a single knee before he rested both his hands on your thighs, “We can still be happy. What you saw out there… that’s not me. You don’t know the full story. But I’ll tell you everything. I’ll answer all your questions, just—” He squeezed your thighs tightly, making your muscles tense at the action, “Talk to me.”
A shudder parted your lips & Ransom must’ve mistook it for you attempting to talk.
“C’mon, you can do it, I know you can. You did before you passed out.”
What? You frowned at him, confused.
“You told me ‘no’.” He grinned like a love-sick puppy, “I heard it. It was breathy, but you spoke. So I know you can talk.”
You remembered saying ‘no’ internally, perhaps mouthing it, but you didn’t actually say the words. Did you?
“One word, that’s it. Just ask me ‘why’. One word & I’ll tell you everything, I’ll let you go, & we can keep going. I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes softened before one of his hands slipped in between your thighs. It didn’t move any further beyond that & you were grateful, but you were still at the mercy of that monster.
“But I will if I have to.”
And you believed him. You’d be an idiot not to. You were an idiot in the first place for ever believing a word he said, for even staying at the estate, for letting him help you. You should’ve left the first time. Walked away & never known the horrors that lied buried beneath the property.
Ultimately, you knew you needed to survive. Dying wasn’t an option. You fucked up one time by choosing to trust in Ransom, you would not make the mistake again. But you did need him to trust you. Only then could you succeed in escaping his clutches.
Nodding once, you felt a single tear escape.
“Yeah?” Ransom appeared overjoyed before reaching behind him to drag his chair closer. He sat down, his knees brushing against yours as he waited for you to speak.
“Wh—” You swallowed, your mouth dry. It sounded only like air passing through your lips, but Ransom’s eyes widened with hope.
It had been a long time since you spoke, you forgot what your own voice sounded like, you weren’t sure you’d recognize it anymore. Clearing your throat, you jutted your chin towards his wine. Ransom pieced together what you were asking & quickly brought the rim of the glass to your lips. You took a healthy sip, wetting your lips & soothing your dry throat.
“Wh—” It was cut short by the sound of pounding at the front door.
Both you & Ransom froze, your eyes connecting.
Did you hear that right? It sounded like someone was---
Another set of pounding knocks sounded through the mansion.
It was real!
Before you could use what little sound you could produce to scream, Ransom slapped a hand over your mouth.
“Shut your mouth, shut up!” He gritted out. You whined behind his palm, attempting to bite at it, but he was quick to replace his hand with the cloth napkin he used to wipe your spit off his face. He stuffed it deep into your mouth & you choked, trying to turn your head away.
“I need help! Please!” A muffled voice sounded from near the front.
It was a man’s voice & he sounded like he was panicking.
Ransom disappeared into the kitchen. You took the opportunity to try & scoot your chair away from the table. You’d never make it to the door in time, especially given the state & position you were in, but if you could make yourself fall over just as Ransom opened the door, you could draw the strangers attention.
But alas, Ransom reappeared in the dining room, this time carrying a gun. It wasn’t a hunting rifle either, but an actual handgun.
No!
You couldn’t let him kill another person.
Ransom was about to surpass you, stomping towards the hallway, but you forced yourself to muffle words from behind the cloth. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes falling to yours. Immediately, he rushed over to you & removed the cloth, “What, what is it? What’d you say?”
You shook your head, tears falling yet again, “Do—don’t.”
A euphoric expression birthed on his face as he stared at you in adoration.
“There it is.” He closed the distance & pressed his lips to yours. You whined into the kiss, trying to remove yourself from it but he kept a hand at the back of your head to keep you in place.
Ransom pulled away from you, his eyes glancing to the hallway before they returned to you.
“You don’t want me to kill him?” He asked as if it was wildest request you could ask of him.
You shook your head fast, begging him with your eyes. Forcing yourself into his favor, your rested your forehead against his own.
Ransom released a breath of air, nodding once, “Okay.”
He cupped your cheek, to which you leant into it, “But no promises.”
With that, Ransom left you in the dining room but not before stuffing your mouth with the cloth yet again.
Tears blurred your vision but you remained still to listen.
You heard the door swing open, followed by a dull thud.
“Thank you, thank you.” The man voiced, “I fuckin’ fell in the dark. I think I broke my arm.”
You had yet to hear Ransom speak which only worried you.
Silence followed for some time & you felt your nerves begin to skyrocket. What was going on?
But not a moment later, did you hear footfalls sound behind you. You glanced over your shoulder & spotted Ransom just as he re-entered the dining room.
“Guy needs help. We’ll help him then he’ll leave.” Ransom announced quietly to you.
We?
Just as the thought passed through your head, Ransom produced a pocketknife from his pocket before cutting at your restraints. Immediately, you brought your arms to your front, rubbing away the pain from the ropes digging into your skin. But Ransom was quick to yank you to your feet, capturing your chin in his hands, “One word to him & I’ll kill you both. Understand?”
You nodded, knowing it to be true. But this was your chance. If you somehow got the stranger to help you, you could overpower Ransom.
Ransom dragged you along as he entered the kitchen, pulling out medical supplies from one of your survival kits. You felt yourself shaking but accepted whatever he handed you. Once Ransom had everything, he led you towards the sitting room.
Upon entering the room, your eyes landed on a young man, probably not much older than you, as he sat in one of the chairs. The shirt he wore was torn at the hem & dirtied from however long he had been wearing it for. His hair was longer, past his ears, & he had a short, scruffy beard. His eyes raised to yours, widening slightly, likely not expecting there to be another person.
Ransom grunted to the man for him to move his arm & rest it on the table.
“I’m going to set it, she’s going to wrap it.”
“Yeah, alright.” He responded, his eyes meeting yours once more.
You lowered your eyes & got to your knees beside Ransom.
“Need something to bite on?” Ransom questioned, none-so-gently grabbing the strangers arm.
“Just fuckin’ get it over with.” The man contorted his face, preparing for the pain.
“On three.” Ransom glanced between the two of you.
“One—” Then he snapped the strangers bone back into place.
“Fuck!” The man yelled, immediately trying to jolt backwards, but Ransom was quick to keep his stable so you could quickly wrap the arm. You had been too distracted by the stranger & trying to convey your problems with your eyes you had missed the bone sticking out of his arm. The open wound gushed with blood & Ransom quickly reached for a bottle of liquor to pour over the wound.
The man hissed, cursing under his breath. You worked as fast & steadily as you could given the circumstances as you wrapped his arm. Once you finished, Ransom stood up, stepping over you, “I’ll get you something for the pain.”
You watched as Ransom left the room. The second he disappeared from sight, you spun back towards the man. He was resting his back against one of the cushioned chairs, holding his arm in his other hand with his eyes closed as he focused on his breathing.
“A—” It was only a small sound but enough for him to open his eyes.
He gave you a strange look, his brows furrowing, “Thanks.”
You moved your mouth again, unable to find words.
“Hel—”
“Sorry ‘bout her.” Ransom appeared, making you jump, “She’s mute.”
The stranger’s eyes rose from yours to Ransom.
“Seems like she’s trying to say something.”
“That so?” Ransom grinned wryly, his eyes falling to yours. You glanced back at him, shaking your head once.
“She tries sometimes, but it comes out garbled. Best to ignore her than entertain her.”
“Right.” The man said, tossing you a confused look.
“Your arm should be fine now.” Ransom shared, “We’ll give it a night but come morning you’re outta here.”
The man scoffed, narrowing his eyes, “Very hospitable.”
Ransom didn’t appreciate the challenge masked behind sarcasm, “I could rebreak it & send you on your way instead.”
The stranger chuckled lightly but raised his uninjured arm in surrender, “I’m good.”
Ransom then handed the man a few pills with a glass of water.
“Name’s Ransom.”
“The fuck kind of name is that?” The man questioned as he downed the pills & chugged the water.
Ransom cocked his head, “This is _____.”
“Right, Ransom & _____, the mute.”
“That’s right. And yours?”
The man wiped at his mouth, his eyes dancing between the two of you, “Rafe. My name is Rafe Cameron.”
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